A  MASTER 


^ 


i 

544 


AMastero/CRAFT 


Other  works  by  the  author  of  this  volume: 
"Many  Cargoes" 
"More  Cargoes'* 
"The  Skipper's  Wooing" 


A 
Master  of  CRAFT 

By 

W.  W.  JACOBS 

**  ft 

Author  of 

"Many  Cargoes,"  "The  Skipper's  Wooing," 
"More  Cargoes,"  etc. 


Frederick  A.  Stokes  Company 
Publishers 


•IT 

Copy  right,  1899*  igoo,  by 
A.  Stokes  Company 

it 


.    I'ifth   Printing 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

By  W.  W.  JACOBS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

A  PRETTY  girl  stood  alone  on  the  jetty  of  an 
old-fashioned  wharf  at  Wapping,  looking  down  upon 
the  silent  deck  of  a  schooner  below.  No  smoke 
issued  from  the  soot-stained  cowl  of  the  galley, 
and  the  fore-scuttle  and  the  companion  were  both 
inhospitably  closed.  The  quiet  of  evening  was 
over  everything,  broken  only  by  the  whirr  of  the 
paddles  of  a  passenger  steamer  as  it  passed  care- 
fully up  the  centre  of  the  river,  or  the  plash  of  a 
lighterman's  huge  sweep  as  he  piloted  his  unwieldy 
craft  down  on  the  last  remnant  of  the  ebb-tide.  In 
shore,  various  craft  sat  lightly  on  the  soft  Thames 
mud :  some  affecting  a  rigid  uprightness,  others 
with  their  decks  at  various  angles  of  discomfort. 

The  girl  stood  a  minute  or  two  in  thought,  and 
put  her  small  foot  out  tentatively  towards  the 
rigging  some  few  feet  distant.  It  was  an  awkward 
jump,  and  she  was  still  considering  it,  when  she 


2  .    -  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

heard  footsteps  behind,  and  a  young  man,  increas- 
ing his  pace  as  he  saw  her,  came  rapidly  on  to  the 
jetty. 

"  This  is  the  Foam,  isn't  it  ?  "  enquired  the  girl, 
as  he  stood  expectantly.  "  I  want  to  see  Captain 
Flower." 

"  He  went  ashore  about  half  an  hour  ago,"  said 
the  other. 

The  girl  tapped  impatiently  with  her  foot. 
"You  don't  know  what  time  he'll  be  back,  I  sup- 
pose ?  "  she  enquired. 

He  shook  his  head.  "  I  think  he's  gone  for  the 
evening,"  he  said,  pondering ;  "  he  was  very  care- 
ful about  his  dress." 

The  ghost  of  a  smile  trembled  on  the  girl's  lips. 
"  He  has  gone  to  call  for  me,"  she  said.  "  I  must 
have  missed  him.  I  wonder  what  I'd  better  do." 

"  Wait  here  till  he  comes  back,"  said  the  man, 
without  hesitation. 

The  girl  wavered.  "  I  suppose  he'll  guess  I've 
come  here,"  she  said,  thoughtfully. 

"  Sure  to,"  said  the  other  promptly. 

"  It's  a  long  way  to  Poplar,"  she  said,  reflectively. 
"  You're  Mr.  Fraser,  the  mate,  I  suppose  ?  Captain 
Flower  has  spoken  to  me  about  you." 

"  That's  my  name,"  said  the  other. 


A  MASTER.  OF  CRAFT.  3 

"  My  name's  Tyrell,"  said  the  girl,  smiling.  "  I 
daresay  you've  heard  Captain  Flower  mention  it?" 

"  Must  have  done,"  said  Fraser,  slowly.  He 
stood  looking  at  the  girl  before  him,  at  her  dark 
hair  and  shining  dark  eyes,  inwardly  wondering 
why  the  captain,  a  fervid  admirer  of  the  sex,  had 
not  mentioned  her. 

"  Will  you  come  on  board  and  wait  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  I'll  bring  a  chair  up  on  deck  for  you  if  you  will." 

The  girl  stood  a  moment  in  consideration,  and 
then,  with  another  faint  reference  to  the  distance  of 
Poplar  from  Wapping,  assented.  The  mate  sprang 
nimbly  into  the  ratlins,  and  then,  extending  a 
hand,  helped  her  carefully  to  the  deck. 

"  How  nice  it  feels  to  be  on  a  ship  again ! "  said 
the  girl,  looking  contentedly  about  her,  as  the  mate 
brought  up  a  canvas  chair  from  below.  "  I  used  to 
go  with  my  father  sometimes  when  he  was  alive, 
but  I  haven't  been  on  a  ship  now  for  two  years  or 
more." 

The  mate,  who  was  watching  her  closely,  made 
no  reply.  He  was  thinking  that  a  straw  hat  with 
scarlet  flowers  went  remarkably  well  with  the  dark 
eyes  and  hair  beneath  it,  and  also  that  the  deck  of 
the  schooner  had  never  before  seemed  such  an 
inviting  place  as  it  was  at  this  moment. 


4  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  Captain  Flower  keeps  his  ship  in  good  condition," 
said  the  visitor,  somewhat  embarrassed  by  his  gaze. 

"  He  takes  a  pride  in  her,"  said  Fraser  ;  "  and  it's 
his  uncle's  craft,  so  there's  no  stint.  She  never 
wants  for  paint  or  repairs,  and  Flower's  as  nice  a 
man  to  sail  under  as  one  could  wish.  We've  had 
the  same  crew  for  years." 

"  He's  very  kind  and  jolly,"  said  the  girl. 

"  He's  one  of  the  best  fellows  breathing,"  said  the 
mate,  warmly  ;  "  he  saved  my  life  once — went  over- 
board after  me  when  we  were  doing  over  ten  knots 
an  hour,  and  was  nearly  drowned  himself." 

"That  was  fine  of  him,"  said  MissTyrell,  eagerly. 
"  He  never  told  me  anything  about  it,  and  I  think 
that's  rather  fine  too.  I  like  brave  men.  Have  you 
ever  been  overboard  after  anybody?  " 

Fraser  shook  his  head  somewhat  despondently. 
"  I'm  not  much  of  a  swimmer,"  said  he. 

"  But  you'd  go  in  for  anybody  if  you  saw  them 
drowning?"  persisted  Miss  Tyrell,  in  a  surprised 
voice. 

"  I  don't  know,  T  m  sure,"  said  Fraser.  "  I  hope 
I  should." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  said  Miss  Tyrell,  severely, 
"  that  if  I  fell  into  the  river  here,  for  instance,  you 
wouldn't  jump  in  and  try  to  save  me?" 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  5 

"Of  course  I  should,"  said  Fraser,  hotly.  "I 
should  jump  in  after  you  if  I  couldn't  swim  a 
stroke." 

Miss  Tyrell,  somewhat  taken  aback,  murmured 
her  gratification. 

"  I  should  go  in  after  you,"  continued  the  mate 
who  was  loath  to  depart  from  the  subject,  "  if  it  was 
blowing  a  gale,  and  the  sea  full  of  sharks." 

"  What  a  blessing  it  is  there  are  no  sharks  round 
our  coast,"  said  Miss  Tyrell,  in  somewhat  of  a  hurry 
to  get  away  from  the  mate's  heroism.  "  Have  you 
ever  seen  one  ?  " 

"  Saw  them  in  the  Indian  Ocean  when  I  was  an 
apprentice,"  replied  Fraser. 

"You've  been  on  foreign-going  ships  then?"  said 
the  girl.  "  I  wonder  you  gave  it  up  for  this." 

"  This  suits  me  better,"  said  Fraser ;  "  my  father's 
an  old  man,  and  he  wanted  me  home.  I  shall  have 
a  little  steamer  he's  got  an  interest  in  as  soon  as 
her  present  skipper  goes,  so  it's  just  as  well  for  me 
to  know  these  waters." 

In  this  wise  they  sat  talking  until  evening  gave 
way  to  night,  and  the  deck  of  the  Foam  was  ob- 
scured in  shadow.  Lamps  were  lit  on  the  wharves, 
and  passing  craft  hung  out  their  side-lights.  The 
girl  rose  to  her  feet. 


6  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  I  won't  wait  any  longer  ;  I  must  be  going, "she 
said. 

"  He  may  be  back  at  any  moment,"  urged  the 
mate. 

"  No,  I'd  better  go,  thank  you/'  replied  the  girl ; 
"it's  getting  late.  I  don't  like  going  home  alone." 

"  I'll  come  with  you,  if  you'll  let  me,"  said  the 
mate,  eagerly. 

"All  the  way?"  said  Miss  Tyrell,  with  the  air 
of  one  bargaining. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Fraser. 

"  Well,  I'll  give  him  another  half-hour,  then,"  said 
the  girl,  calmly.  "  Shall  we  go  down  to  the  cabin  ? 
It's  rather  chilly  up  here  now." 

The  mate  showed  her  below,  and,  lighting  the 
lamp,  took  a  seat  opposite  and  told  her  a  few  tales 
of  the  sea,  culled  when  he  was  an  apprentice,  and 
credulous  of  ear.  Miss  Tyrell  retaliated  with  some 
told  her  by  her  father,  from  which  Fraser  was  able 
to  form  his  own  opinion  of  that  estimable  mariner. 
The  last  story  was  of  a  humourous  nature,  and  the 
laughter  which  ensued  grated  oddly  on  the  ear  of 
the  sturdy,  good-looking  seaman  who  had  just  come 
on  board.  He  stopped  at  the  companion  for  a  mc- 
ment  listening  in  amazement,  and  then,  hastily  de- 
scending, entered  the  cabin. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  7 

"  Poppy  !  "  he  cried.  "  Why,  I've  been  waiting 
up  at  the  Wheelers'  for  you  for  nearly  a  couple  of 
hours." 

"  I  must  have  missed  you,"  said  Miss  Tyrell,  se- 
renely. "  Annoying,  isn't  it  ?  " 

The  master  of  the  Foam  said  it  was,  and  seemed 
from  his  manner  to  be  anxious  to  do  more  justice 
to  the  subject  than  that. 

"  I  didn't  dream  you'd  come  down  here,"  he  said, 
at  length. 

"  No,  you  never  invited  me,  so  I  came  without," 
said  the  girl  softly  ;  "  it's  a  dear  little  schooner,  and 
I  like  it  very  much.  I  shall  come  often." 

A  slight  shade  passed  over  Captain  Flower's  face, 
but  he  said  nothing. 

"  You  must  take  me  back  now,"  said  Miss  Tyrell. 
"  Good-bye,  Mr.  Fraser." 

She  held  out  her  hand  to  the  mate,  and  giving  a 
friendly  pressure,  left  the  cabin,  followed  by  Flower. 

The  mate  let  them  get  clear  of  the  ship,  and  then, 
clambering  on  to  the  jetty,  watched  them  off  the 
wharf,  and,  plunging  his  hands  into  his  pockets, 
whistled  softly. 

"  Poppy  Tyrell,"  he  said  to  himself,  slowly. 
"  Poppy  TyreM !  I  wonder  why  the  skipper  has 
never  mentioned  her.  I  wonder  why  she  took  his 


8  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

arm.  I  wonder  whether  she  knows  that  he's  en- 
gaged to  be  married." 

Deep  in  thought  he  paced  slowly  up  and  down 
the  wharf,  and  then  wandered  listlessly  round  the 
piled-up  empties  and  bags  of  sugar  in  the  open  floor 
beneath  the  warehouse.  A  glance  through  the  win- 
dows of  the  office  showed  him  the  watchman  slum- 
bering peacefully  by  the  light  of  a  solitary  gas-jet, 
and  he  went  back  to  the  schooner  and  gazed  at  the 
dark  water  and  the  dim  shapes  of  the  neighbouring 
craft  in  a  vein  of  gentle  melancholy.  He  walked  to 
the  place  where  her  chair  had  been,  and  tried  to 
conjure  up  the  scene  again ;  then,  becoming  uncer- 
tain as  to  the  exact  spot,  went  down  to  the  cabin, 
where,  the  locker  being  immovable,  no  such  diffi- 
culty presented  itself.  He  gazed  his  fill,  and  then, 
smoking  a  meditative  pipe,  turned  in  and  fell  fast 
asleep. 

He  was  awakened  suddenly  from  a  dream  of 
rescuing  a  small  shark  surrounded  by  a  horde  of 
hungry  Poppies,  by  the  hurried  and  dramatic  en- 
trance of  Captain  Fred  Flower.  The  captain's  eyes 
were  wild  and  his  face  harassed,  and  he  unlocked 
the  door  of  his  state-room  and  stood  with  the  han- 
dle of  it  in  his  hand  before  he  paused  to  answer  the 
question  in  the  mate's  sleepy  eyes. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  9 

"  It's  all  right,  Jack/'  he  said,  breathlessly. 

"  I'm  glad  of  that,"  said  the  mate,  calmly. 

"  I  hurried  a  bit,"  said  the  skipper. 

"  Anxious  to  see  me  again,  I  suppose,"  said  the 
mate;  "what  are  you  listening  for?" 

"  Thought  I  heard  somebody  in  the  water  as  I 
came  aboard,"  said  Flower  glibly. 

"What  have  you  been  up  to?"  enquired  the 
other,  quickly. 

Captain  Flower  turned  and  regarded  him  with  a 
look  of  offended  dignity. 

"Good  heavens!  don't  look  like  that,"  said  the 
mate,  misreading  it.  "  You  haven't  chucked  any- 
body  overboard,  have  you  ?  " 

"  If  anybody  should  happen  to  come  aboard  this 
vessel,"  said  Flower,  without  deigning  to  reply  to 
the  question,  "  and  ask  questions  about  the  master 
of  it,  he's  as  unlike  me,  Jack,  as  any  two  people  in 
this  world  can  be.  D'ye  understand?  " 

"You'd  better  tell  me  what  you've  been  up  to," 
urged  the  mate. 

"  As  for  your  inquisitiveness,  Jack,  it  don't  be- 
come you,"  said  Flower,  with  severity ;  "  but  I 
don't  suppose  it'll  be  necessary  to  trouble  you  at 
all." 

He  walked  out  of  the  cabin  and  stood  listening 


10  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

at  the  foot  of  the  companion-ladder,  and  the  mate 
heard  him  walk  a  little  way  up.  When  he  re- 
entered  the  cabin  his  face  had  cleared,  and  he 
smiled  comfortably. 

"  I  shall  just  turn  in  for  an  hour,"  he  said,  amia- 
bly; "good-night,  Jack." 

"Good-night,"  said  the  curious  mate.  "I  say 

"  he  sat  up  suddenly  in  his  bunk  and  looked 

seriously  at  the  skipper. 

"Well?"  said  the  other. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  the  mate,  with  a  slight  cough 
— "  I  suppose  it's  nothing  about  that  girl  that  was 
down  here  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Flower,  violently.  He  ex- 
tinguished the  lamp,  and,  entering  his  state-room, 
closed  the  door  and  locked  it,  and  the  mate,  after 
lying  a  little  while  drowsily  wondering  what  it  all 
meant,  fell  asleep  again. 


CHAPTER  II. 

WHILE  the  skipper  and  mate  slumbered  peace- 
fully below,  the  watchman  sat  on  a  post  at  the  ex- 
treme end  of  the  jetty,  yearning  for  human  society 
and  gazing  fearfully  behind  him  at  the  silent,  dimly- 
lit  wharf.  The  two  gas-lamps  high  up  on  the  walls 
gave  but  a  faint  light,  and  in  no  way  dispelled  the 
deep  shadows  thrown  by  the  cranes  and  the  piled- 
up  empties  which  littered  the  place.  He  gazed  in- 
tently at  the  dark  opening  of  the  floor  beneath  the 
warehouse,  half  fancying  that  he  could  again  discern 
the  veiled  apparition  which  had  looked  in  at  him 
through  the  office  window,  and  had  finally  vanished 
before  his  horror-struck  eyes  in  a  corner  the  only 
outlet  to  which  was  a  grating.  Albeit  a  careful 
man  and  tender,  the  watchman  pinched  himself. 
He  was  awake,  and,  rubbing  the  injured  part,  swore 
softly. 

"If  I  go  down  and  tell  'em,"  he  murmured  softly, 
in  allusion  to  the  crew,  "  what'll  they  do  ?  Laugh 
at  me." 

He  glanced  behind  him  again,  and,  rising  hastily 


12  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

to  his  feet,  nearly  fell  on  to  the  deck  below  as  a 
dark  figure  appeared  for  a  moment  at  the  opening 
and  then  vanished  again.  With  more  alacrity  than 
might  have  been  expected  of  a  man  of  his  figure, 
he  dropped  into  the  rigging  and  lowered  himself  on 
to  the  schooner. 

The  scuttle  was  open,  and  the  seamen's  lusty 
snores  fell  upon  his  ears  like  sweet  music.  He 
backed  down  the  ladder,  and  groped  in  the  dark- 
ness towards  the  bunks  with  outstretched  hand. 
One  snore  stopped  instantly. 

"  Eh  !  "  said  a  sleepy  voice.  "  Wot !  'Ere,  what 
the  blazes  are  you  up  to?" 

"A'  right,  Joe,"  said  the  watchman,  cheerfully. 

"  But  it  ain't  all  right,"  said  the  seaman,  sharply, 
"  comin'  down  in  the  dark  an'  ketchin'  'old  o'  peo- 
ple's noses.  Give  me  quite  a  start,  you  did." 

"  It's  nothing  to  the  start  I've  'ad,"  said  the 
other,  pathetically  ;  "  there's  a  ghost  on  the  wharf, 
Joe.  I  want  you  to  come  up  with  me  and  see  what 
it  is." 

"Yes,  I'm  sure  to  do  that,"  said  Joe,  turning 
over  in  his  bunk  till  it  creaked  with  his  weight. 
"  Go  away,  and  let  me  get  to  sleep  again.  I  don't 
get  a  night's  rest  like  you-  do,  you  know." 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  enquired  a  sleepy  voice. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  13 

"  Old  George  'ere  ses  there's  a  ghost  on  the 
wharf,"  said  Joe. 

"I've  seen  it  three  times,"  said  the  watchman, 
eager  for  sympathy. 

"  I  expect  it's  a  death-warning  for  you,  George," 
said  the  voice,  solemnly.  "  The  last  watchman  died 
sudden,  you  remember." 

"So  he  did,"  said  Joe. 

"  His  'art  was  wrong,"  said  George,  curtly  ;  "  'ad 
been  for  years." 

"  Well,  we  can't  do  nothin'  for  you,  George," 
said  Joe,  kindly;  "it's  no  good  us  going  up.  We 
sha'n't  see  it.  It  isn't  meant  for  us." 

"  'Ow  d'yer  know  it's  a  ghost,"  said  a  third  voice, 
impatiently  ;  "  very  likely  while  you're  all  jawing 
about  it  down  'ere  it's  a-burglin*  the  offis." 

Joe  gave  a  startled  grunt,  and,  rolling  out  of  his 
bunk,  grabbed  his  trousers,  and  began  to  dress. 
Three  other  shadowy  forms  followed  suit,  and, 
hastily  dressing,  followed  the  watchman  on  deck 
and  gained  the  wharf.  They  went  through  the 
gloomy  ground  floor  in  a  body,  yawning  sleepily. 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  be  a  watchman,"  said  a  young 
ordinary  seaman  named  Tim,  with  a  shiver;  "a 
ghost  might  easy  do  anything  with  you  while  you 
was  all  alone.  P'r'aps  it  walks  up  an'  down  behind 


14  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

you,  George,  makin'  faces.  We  shall  be  gorn  in  an- 
other hour,  George." 

The  office,  when  they  reached  it,  was  undis- 
turbed, and,  staying  only  long  enough  to  drink  the 
watchman's  coffee,  which  was  heating  on  a  gas-jet, 
they  left  it  and  began  to  search  the  wharf,  Joe  lead- 
ing with  a  small  lantern. 

"Are  we  all  'ere?  "  demanded  Tim,  suddenly. 

"  /  am,"  said  the  cook,  emphatically. 

"  'Cos  I  see  su'thing  right  behind  them  bags  o* 
sugar,"  said  the  youth,  clutching  hold  of  the  cook 
on  one  side  and  the  watchman  on  the  other. 
4<  Spread  out  a  bit,  chaps." 

Joe  dashed  boldly  round  with  the  lantern.  There 
was  a  faint  scream  and  an  exclamation  of  triumph 
from  the  seaman.  "  I've  got  it !  "  he  shouted. 

The  others  followed  hastily,  and  saw  the  fearless 
Joe  firmly  gripping  the  apparition.  At  the  sight 
the  cook  furtively  combed  his  hair  with  his  fingers, 
while  Tim  modestly  buttoned  up  his  jacket. 

"Take  this  lantern,  so's  I  can  hold  her  better,0 
said  Joe,  extending  it. 

The  cook  took  it  from  him,  and  holding  it  up,  re- 
vealed the  face  of  a  tall,  good-looking  woman  of 
some  seven  or  eight  and  twenty. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  ij 

"  What  are  you  doin'  here  ? "  demanded  the 
watchman,  with  official  austerity. 

"I'm  waiting  for  a  friend  of  mine/'  said  the 
visitor,  struggling  with  Joe.  "  Make  this  man  leave 
go  of  me,  please." 

"  Joe,"  said  the  watchman,  with  severity.  "  I'm 
ashamed  of  you.  Who  is  your  friend,  miss  ?  " 

"  His  name  is  Robinson,"  said  the  lady.  "  He 
came  on  here  about  an  hour  ago.  I'm  waiting  for 
him." 

"  There's  nobody  here,"  said  the  watchman,  shak- 
ing his  head. 

"  I'm  not  sure  he  didn't  go  on  that  little  ship," 
said  the  lady ;  "  but  if  he  has,  I  suppose  I  can 
wait  here  till  he  comes  off.  I'm  not  doing  any 
harm." 

"  The  ship'll  sail  in  about  an  hour's  time,  miss," 
said  Tim,  regretfully,  "  but  there  ain't  nobody  of 
the  name  of  Robinson  aboard  her.  All  the  crew's 
'ere,  and  there's  only  the  skipper  and  mate  on  her 
besides." 

"  You  can't  deceive  me,  young  man,  so  don't  try 
it,"  said  the  lady,  sharply.  "  I  followed  him  on 
here,  and  he  hasn't  gone  off,  because  the  gate  has 
been  locked  since." 

"  I  can't  think  who  the   lady  means,"  said  Joe. 


16  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

44  I  ain't  seen  nobody  come  aboard.  If  he  did,  he's 
down  the  cabin." 

"Well,  I'll  go  down  there,"  said  the  lady, 
promptly. 

"Well,  miss,  it's  nothing  to  do  with  us/'  said 
Joe,  "  but  it's  my  opinion  you'll  find  the  skipper 
and  mate  has  turned  in." 

41  Well,  I'm  going  down,"  said  the  lady,  gripping 
her  parasol  firmly  by  the  middle ; "  they  can't  eat  me." 

She  walked  towards  the  Foam,  followed  by  the 
perplexed  crew,  and  with  the  able  assistance  of  five 
pairs  of  hands  reached  the  deck.  The  companion 
was  open,  and  at  Joe's  whispered  instructions  she 
turned  and  descended  the  steps  backwards. 

It  was  at  first  quite  dark  in  the  cabin,  but  as  the 
visitor's  eyes  became  accustomed  to  it,  she  could 
just  discern  the  outlines  of  a  small  table,  while  a 
steady  breathing  assured  her  that  somebody  was 
sleeping  close  by.  Feeling  her  way  to  the  table 
she  discovered  a  locker,  and,  taking  a  seat,  coughed 
gently.  The  breathing  continuing  quite  undis- 
turbed, she  coughed  again,  twice. 

The  breathing  stopped  suddenly.  "  Who  the 
devil's  that  coughing  ?  "  asked  a  surprised  voice. 

"  I  beg  pardon,  I'm  sure,"  said  the  visitor,  "  but 
is  there  a  Mr.  Robinson  down  here?" 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  17 

The  reply  was  so  faint  and  smothered  that  she 
could  not  hear  it.  It  was  evident  that  the  speaker, 
a  modest  man,  was  now  speaking  from  beneath  the 
bedclothes. 

"  Is  Mr.  Robinson  here  ?  "  she  repeated  loudly. 

"  Never  heard  of  him,"  said  the  smothered  voice. 

"  It's  my  opinion,"  said  the  visitor,  hotly,  "  that 
you're  trying  to  deceive  me.  Have  you  got  a 
match?" 

The  owner  of  the  voice  said  that  he  had  not, 
and  with  chilly  propriety  added  that  he  wouldn't 
give  it  to  her  if  he  had.  Whereupon  the  lady  rose, 
and,  fumbling  on  the  little  mantel-piece,  found  a 
box  and  struck  one.  There  was  a  lamp  nailed  to 
the  bulkhead  over  the  mantel-piece,  and  calmly  re- 
moving the  chimney,  she  lit  it. 

A  red,  excited  face,  with  the  bedclothes  fast 
about  its  neck/appeared  in  a  small  bunk  and  stared 
at  her  in  speechless  amaze.  The  visitor  returned 
his  gaze  calmly,  and  then  looked  carefully  round  the 
cabin. 

"  Where  does  that  lead  to  ?  "  she  asked,  pointing 
to  the  door  of  the  state-room. 

The  mate,  remembering  in  time  the  mysterious 
behaviour  of  Flower,  considered  the  situation. 
"That's  the  pantry,"  he  said,  untruthfully. 


18  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

The  visitor  rose  and  tried  the  handle.  The  door 
was  locked,  and  she  looked  doubtfully  at  the  mate. 
"  I  suppose  that's  a  leg  of  mutton  I  can  hear  asleep 
in  there,"  she  said,  with  acerbity. 

"  You  can  suppose  what  you  like,"  said  the  mate, 
testily ;  "  why  don't  you  go  away  ?  I'm  surprised 
at  you." 

"  You'll  be  more  surprised  before  I've  done  with 
you,"  said  the  lady,  with  emotion.  "  My  Fred's  in 
there,  and  you  know  it." 

"  Your  Fred  !  "  said  Fraser,  in  great  surprise. 

"  Mr.  Robinson,"  said  the  visitor,  correcting  her- 
self. 

"  I  tell  you  there's  nobody  in  there  except  the 
skipper,"  said  the  mate. 

"  You  said  it  was  the  pantry  just  now,"  exclaimed 
the  other,  sharply. 

"The  skipper  sleeps  in  the  pantry  so's  he  can 
keep  his  eye  on  the  meat,"  explained  Fraser. 

The  visitor  looked  at  him  angrily.  "  What  sort 
of  a  man  is  he  ?  "  she  enquired,  suddenly. 

"  You'll  soon  know  if  he  comes  out,"  said  the 
mate.  "  He's  the  worst-tempered  man  afloat,  I 
should  think.  If  he  comes  out  and  finds  you  here, 
I  don't  know  what  he'll  dr  " 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  19 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  him,"  said  the  other,  with 
spirit.  "  What  do  you  call  him  ?  Skipper  ?  " 

The  mate  nodded,  and  the  visitor  tapped  loudly 
at  the  door.  "  Skipper  !  "  she  cried,  "  Skipper!  " 

No  answer  being  vouchsafed,  she  repeated  her 
cry  in  a  voice  louder  than  before. 

"  He's  a  heavy  sleeper,"  said  the  perturbed 
Fraser  ;  "  better  go  away,  there's  a  good  girl." 

The  lady,  scornfully  ignoring  him,  rapped  on  the 
door  and  again  called  upon  its  occupant.  Then, 
despite  her  assurance,  she  sprang  back  with  a 
scream  as  a  reply  burst  through  the  door  with  the 
suddenness  and  fury  of  a  thunder-clap. 

"  Halloa  !  "  it  said. 

"  My  goodness,"  said  the  visitor,  aghast.  "  What 
a  voice  !  What  a  terrible  voice  !  " 

She  recovered  herself  and  again  approached  the 
door. 

"Is  there  a  gentleman  named  Robinson  in 
there  ?  "  she  asked,  timidly. 

"  Gentleman  named  who  ? "  came  the  thunder- 
clap again. 

"  Robinson,"  said  the  lady,  faintly. 

"No!  No!"  said  the  thunder-clap.  Then— 
"  Go  away,"  it  rumbled.  "  Go  away." 

The    reverberation    of    that  mighty  voice  rolled 


20  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

and  shook  through  the  cabin.  It  even  affected  the 
mate,  for  the  visitor,  glancing  towards  him,  saw  that 
he  had  nervously  concealed  himself  beneath  the 
bedclothes,  and  was  shaking  with  fright. 

44 1  daresay  his  bark  is  worse  than  his  bite,"  said 
the  visitor,  trembling ;  "  anyway,  I'm  going  to 
stay  here.  I  saw  Mr.  Robinson  come  here,  and  I 
believe  he's  got  him  in  there.  Killing  him,  per- 
haps. Oh !  Oh ! " 

To  the  mate's  consternation  she  began  to  laugh, 
and  then  changed  to  a  piercing  scream,  and,  unused 
to  the  sex  as  he  was,  he  realised  that  this  was  the 
much-dreaded  hysteria  of  which  he  had  often 
heard,  and  he  faced  her  with  a  face  as  pallid  as  her 
own. 

"  Chuck  some  water  over  yourself,"  he  said, 
hastily,  nodding  at  a  jug  which  stood  on  the  table. 
"  I  can't  very  well  get  up  to  do  it  myself." 

The  lady  ignored  this  advice,  and  by  dint  of 
much  strength  of  mind  regained  her  self-control. 
She  sat  down  on  the  locker  again,  and  folding  her 
arms  showed  clearly  her  intention  to  remain. 

Half  an  hour  passed  ;  the  visitor  still  sat  grimly 
upright.  Twice  she  sniffed  slightly,  and,  with  a 
delicate  handkerchief,  pushed  up  her  veil  and 
wiped  away  the  faint  beginnings  of  a  tear. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  21 

"  I  suppose  you  think  I'm  acting  strangely  ?  "  she 
said,  catching  the  mate's  eye  after  one  of  these  ep- 
isodes. 

"Oh,  don't  mind  me,"  said  the  mate,  with 
studied  politeness ;  "  don't  mind  hurting  my  feelings 
or  taking  my  character  away." 

"  Pooh  !  you're  a  man,"  said  the  visitor,  scornfully ; 
"  but  character  or  no  character,  I'm  going  to  see 
into  that  room  before  I  go  away,  if  I  sit  here  for 
three  weeks." 

"  How're  you  going  to  manage  about  eating  and 
drinking  all  that  time?  "  enquired  Fraser. 

"  How  are  you  ?"  said  the  visitor ;  "you  can't  get 
up  while  I'm  here,  you  know." 

"  Well,  we'll  see,"  said  the  mate,  vaguely. 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  want  to  annoy  anybody,"  said 
the  visitor,  softly,  "but  I've  had  a  lot  of  trouble, 
young  man,  and  what's  worse,  I've  been  made  a  fool 
of.  This  day  three  weeks  ago  I  ought  to  have  been 
married." 

"  I'm  sure  you  ought,"  murmured  the  other. 

The  lady  ignored  the  interruption. 

"  Travelling  under  Government  on  secret  service, 
he  said  he  was,"  she  continued;  "always  away: 
here  to-day,  China  to-morrow,  and  America  the  day 
after." 


22  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  Flying?  "  queried  the  interested  mate. 

"I  daresay,"  snapped  the  visitor;  "anything  to 
tell  me,  I  suppose.  We  were  to  be  married  by 
special  license.  I'd  even  got  my  trousseau  ready." 

"  Got  your  what  ready  ?  "  enquired  the  mate,  to 
whom  the  word  was  new,  leaning  out  of  his  bunk. 

"  Everything  to  wear,"  explained  the  visitor. 
"  All  my  relations  bought  new  clothes,  too ;  least- 
ways, those  that  could  afford  it  did.  He  even  went 
and  helped  me  choose  the  cake." 

"Well,  is  that  wrong?"  asked  the  puzzled  mate. 

"  He  didn't  buy  it,  he  only  chose  it,"  said  the 
other,  having  recourse  to  her  handkerchief  again. 
"  He  went  outside  the  shop  to  see  whether  there 
was  one  he  would  like  better,  and  when  I  came  out 
he  had  disappeared." 

"  He  must  have  met  with  an  accident,"  said  the 
mate,  politely. 

"  I  saw  him  to-night,"  said  the  lady,  tersely. 

"Once  or  twice  he  had  mentioned  Wapping  in 
conversation,  and  then  seemed  to  check  himself. 
That  was  my  clue.  I've  been  round  this  dismal 
heathenish  place  for  a  fortnight.  To-night  I  saw 
him  ;  he  came  on  this  wharf,  and  he  has  not  gone 
off.  .  .  .  It's  my  belief  he's  in  that  room." 

Before  the  mate  could  reply  the  hoarse  voice  of 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT,  23 

the  watchman  came  down  the  company-way.  "  Ha* 
past  eleven,  sir ;  tide's  just  on  the  turn." 

"  Aye,  aye,"  said  the  mate.  He  turned  implor- 
ingly to  the  visitor. 

"  Would  you  do  me  the  favour  just  to  step  on 
deck  a  minute?" 

"  What  for?  "  enquired  the  visitor,  shortly. 

"  Because  I  want  to  get  up,"  said  the  mate. 

"  I  sha'n't  move,"  said  the  lady. 

"  But  I've  got  to  get  up,  I  tell  you,"  said  the 
mate ;  "  we're  getting  under  way  in  ten  minutes." 

"  And  what  might  that  be  ?  "  asked  the  lady. 

"  Why,  we  make  a  start.  You'd  better  go  ashore 
unless  you  want  to  be  carried  off." 

"  I  sha'n't  move,"  repeated  the  visitor. 

"  Well,  I'm  sorry  to  be  rude,"  said  the  mate. 
"  George." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  watchman  from  above. 

"  Bring  down  a  couple  o*  men  and  take  this  lady 
ashore,"  said  the  mate  sternly. 

"  I'll  send  a  couple  down,  sir,"  said  the  watch- 
man, and  moved  off  to  make  a  selection. 

"  I  shall  scream  *  murder  and  thieves,'  "  said  the 
lady,  her  eyes  gleaming.  "  I'll  bring  the  police  up 
and  cause  a  scandal.  Then  perhaps  I  shall  see  into 
tthat  room." 


24  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

In  the  face  of  determination  like  this  the  mate's 
courage  gave  way,  and  in  a  voice  of  much  anxiety 
he  called  upon  his  captain  for  instruction. 

"  Cast  off,"  bellowed  the  mighty  voice.  "  If  your 
sweetheart  won't  go  ashore  she  must  come,  too. 
You  must  pay  her  passage." 

"  Well,  of  all  the  damned  impudence,"  muttered 
the  incensed  mate.  "  Well,  if  you're  bent  on  com- 
ing," he  said,  hotly,  to  the  visitor,  "  just  go  on  deck 
while  I  dress." 

The  lady  hesitated  a  moment  and  then  withdrew. 
On  deck  the  men  eyed  her  curiously,  but  made  no 
attempt  to  interfere  with  her,  and  in  a  couple  of 
minutes  the  mate  came  running  up  to  take  charge. 

"  Where  are  we  going  ?  "  enquired  the  lady  with  a 
trace  of  anxiety  in  her  voice. 

"  France, "said  Fraser,  turning  away. 

The  visitor  looked  nervously  round.  At  the 
adjoining  wharf  a  sailing  barge  was  also  getting 
under  way,  and  a  large  steamer  was  slowly  turning 
in  the  middle  of  the  river.  She  took  a  pace  or 
two  towards  the  side. 

"  Cast  off,"  said  Fraser,  impatiently,  to  the  watch- 
man. 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  said  the  visitor,  hastily,  "  I 
want  to  think." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  25 

"  Cast  off,"  repeated  the  mate. 

The  watchman  obeyed,  and  the  schooner's  side 
moved  slowly  from  the  wharf.  At  the  sight  the 
visitor's  nerve  forsook  her,  and  with  a  frantic  cry 
she  ran  to  the  side  and,  catching  the  watchman's 
outstretched  hand,  sprang  ashore. 

"  Good-bye/'  sang  out  the  mate ;  "  sorry  you 
wouldn't  come  to  France  with  us.  The  lady  was 
afraid  of  the  foreigners,  George.  If  it  had  been 
England  she  wouldn't  have  minded." 

"  Aye,  aye,"  said  the  watchman,  significantly, 
and,  as  the  schooner  showed  her  stern,  turned  to 
answer,  with  such  lies  as  he  thought  the  occasion 
demanded,  the  eager  questions  of  his  fair  companion. 


CHAPTER  III. 

CAPTAIN  FLOWER,  learning  through  the  medium 
of  Tim  that  the  coast  was  clear,  came  on  deck  at 
Limehouse,  and  took  charge  of  his  ship  with  a 
stateliness  significant  of  an  uneasy  conscience.  He 
noticed  with  growing  indignation  that  the  mate's 
attitude  was  rather  that  of  an  accomplice  than  a 
subordinate,  and  that  the  crew  looked  his  way  far 
oftener  than  was  necessary  or  desirable. 

"  I  told  her  we  were  going  to  France,"  said  the 
mate,  in  an  impressive  whisper. 

"  Her?  "  said  Flower,  curtly.     "  Who  ?  " 

u  The  lady  you  didn't  want  to  see,"  said  Fraser, 
restlessly. 

"  You  let  your  ideas  run  away  with  you,  Jack," 
said  Flower,  yawning.  "It  wasn't  likely  I  was 
going  to  turn  out  and  dress  to  see  any  girl  you 
liked  to  invite  aboard." 

"  Or  even  to  bawl  at  them  through  the  speaking- 
trumpet,"  said  Fraser,  looking  at  him  steadily. 

"What  sort  o*  looking  girl  was  she?"  enquired 
Flower,  craning  his  neck  to  see  what  was  in  front 
of  him. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  27 

"  Looked  like  a  girl  who  meant  to  find  the  man 
she  wanted,  if  she  spent  ten  years  over  it,"  said  the 
mate  grimly.  "  I'll  bet  you  an  even  five  shillings, 
cap'n,  that  she  finds  this  Mr.  Robinson  before  six 
weeks  are  out — whatever  his  other  name  is." 

"  Maybe,"  said  Flower,  carelessly. 

"  It's  her  first  visit  to  the  Foam,  but  not  the  last, 
you  mark  my  words,"  said  Fraser,  solemnly.  "  If 
she  wants  this  rascal  Robinson ' 

"What?"  interrupted  Flower,  sharply. 

"  I  say  if  she  wants  this  rascal  Robinson,"  re- 
peated the  mate,  with  relish,  "  she'll  naturally  come 
where  she  saw  the  last  trace  of  him." 

Captain  Flower  grunted. 

"  Women  never  think,"  continued  Fraser,  ju- 
dicially, "  or  else  she'd  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  such  a 
confounded  scoundrel." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  him  ?  "  demanded 
Flower. 

"  I  know  what  she  told  me,"  said  Fraser ;  "  the 
idea  of  a  man  leaving  a  poor  girl  in  a  cake-shop  and 
doing  a  bolt.  He'll  be  punished  for  it,  I  know. 
He's  a  thoughtless,  inconsiderate  fellow,  but  one  of 
the  best-hearted  chaps  in  the  world,  and  I  guess  I'll 
do  the  best  I  can  for  him." 

Flower  grinned  safely  in    the   darkness.     "And 


28  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

any  little  help  I  can  give  you,  Jack,  I'll  give  freely," 
he  said,  softly.  "  We'll  talk  it  over  at  breakfast." 

The  mate  took  the  hint,  and,  moving  off,  folded 
his  arms  on  the  taffrail,  and,  looking  idly  astern,  fell 
into  a  reverie.  Like  the  Pharisee,  he  felt  thankful 
that  he  was  not  as  other  men,  and  dimly  pitied  the 
skipper  and  his  prosaic  entanglements,  as  he  thought 
of  Poppy.  He  looked  behind  at  the  dark  and  silent 
city,  and  felt  a  new  affection  for  it,  as  he  reflected 
that  she  was  sleeping  there. 

The  two  men  commenced  their  breakfast  in  si- 
lence, the  skipper  eating  with  a  zest  which  caused 
the  mate  to  allude  impatiently  to  the  last  break- 
fasts of  condemned  men. 

"Shut  the  skylight,  Jack/*  said  the  skipper,  at 
length,  as  he  poured  out  his  third  cup  of  coffee. 

Fraser  complied,  and  resuming  his  seat  gazed  at 
him  with  almost  indecent  expectancy.  The  skipper 
dropped  some  sugar  into  his  coffee,  and  stirring  it 
in  a  meditative  fashion,  sighed  gently. 

"  I've  been  making  a  fool  of  myself,  Jack,"  he 
said,  at  length.  "  I  was  always  one  to  be  fond  of  a 
little  bit  of  adventure,  but  this  goes  a  little  too  far, 
even  for  me." 

"  But  what  did  you  get  engaged  to  her  for?  "  en- 
quired  Fraser. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  29 

Flower  shook  his  head.  "  She  fell  violently  in 
love  with  me/'  he  said,  mournfully.  "  She  keeps 
the  Blue  Posts  up  at  Chelsea.  Her  father  left  it  to 
her.  She  manages  her  step-mother  and  her  brother 
and  everybody  else.  I  was  just  a  child  in  her 
hands.  You  know  my  easy-going  nature." 
"  But  you  made  love  to  her,"  expostulated  the  mate. 

"  In  a  way,  I  suppose  I  did,"  admitted  the  other. 
"  I  don't  know  now  whether  she  could  have  me  up 
for  breach  of  promise,  because  when  I  asked  her  I 
did  it  this  way.  I  said,  'Will  you  be  Mrs.  Robin- 
son ? '  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  it  would  make  it  harder  for  you," 
said  Fraser.  "  But  didn't  you  remember  Miss 
Banks  while  all  this  was  going  on  ?  " 

"  In  a  way,"  said  Flower,  "  yes — in  a  way.  But 
after  a  man's  been  engaged  to  a  woman  nine  years, 
it's  very  easy  to  forget,  and  every  year  makes  it 
easier.  Besides,  I  was  only  a  boy  when  I  was  en- 
gaged to  her." 

"  Twenty-eight,"  said  Fraser. 

"  Anyway,  I  wasn't  old  enough  to  know  my  own 
mind,"  said  Flower,  "  and  my  uncle  and  old  Mrs. 
Banks  made  it  up  between  them.  They  arranged 
everything,  and  I  can't  afford  to  offend  the  old  man. 
If  I  married  Miss  Tipping — that's  the  Blue  Posts 


30  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

girl — he'd  leave  his  money  away  from  me ;  and  if  I 
marry  Elizabeth,  Miss  Tipping'll  have  me  up  for 
breach  of  promise — if  she  finds  me." 

"  If  you're  not  very  careful,"  said  Fraser,  impres- 
sively, "you'll  lose  both  of  'em." 

The  skipper  leaned  over  the  table,  and  glanced 
carefully  round.  "  Just  what  I  want  to  do,"  he 
said,  in  a  low  voice.  "  I'm  engaged  to  another  girl." 

"  What  ? "  cried  the  mate,  raising  his  voice. 
"  Three  ?  " 

"Three,"  repeated  the  skipper.  "Only  three," 
he  added,  hastily,  as  he  saw  a  question  trembling 
on  the  other's  lips. 

"  I'm  ashamed  of  you,"  said  the  latter,  severely ; 
"  you  ought  to  know  better." 

"  I  don't  want  any  of  your  preaching,  Jack,"  said 
the  skipper,  briskly ;  "  and,  what's  more,  I  won't 
have  it.  I  deserve  more  pity  than  blame." 

"You'll  want  all  you  can  get,"  said  Fraser,  omi- 
nously. "  And  does  the  other  girl  know  of  any  of 
the  others?" 

"  Of  either  of  the  others — no,"  corrected  Flower. 
"  Of  course,  none  of  them  know.  You  don't  think 
I'm  a  fool,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Who  is  number  three  ? "  enquired  the  mate 
suddenly. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  31 

"  Poppy  Tyrell,"  replied  the  other. 

"  Oh,"  said  Fraser,  trying  to  speak  unconcern- 
edly ;  "  the  girl  who  came  here  last  evening." 

Flower  nodded.  "  She's  the  one  I'm  going  to 
marry,"  he  said,  colouring.  "  I'd  sooner  marry  her 
than  command  a  liner.  I'll  marry  her  if  I  lose  every 
penny  I'm  going  to  have,  but  I'm  not  going  to  lose 
the  money  if  I  can  help  it.  I  want  both." 

The  mate  baled  out  his  cup  with  a  spoon  and  put 
the  contents  into  the  saucer. 

"  I'm  a  sort  of  guardian  to  her,"  said  Flower. 
"  Her  father,  Captain  Tyrell,  died  about  a  year  ago, 
and  I  promised  him  I'd  look  after  her  and  marry 
her.  It's  a  sacred  promise." 

"  Besides,  you  want  to,"  said  Fraser,  by  no  means 
in  the  mood  to  allow  his  superior  any  credit  in  the 
matter,  "  else  you  wouldn't  do  it." 

"  You  don't  know  me,  Jack,"  said  the  skipper, 
more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger. 

"No,  I  didn't  think  you  were  quite  so  bad,"  said 
the  mate,  slowly.  "  Is — Miss  Tyrell — fond  of  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  she  is,"  said  Flower,  indignantly ; 
"they  all  are,  that's  the  worst  of  it.  You  were 
never  much  of  a  favourite  with  the  sex,  Jack,  were 
you?" 

Fraser  shook  his  head,  and,  the  saucer  being  full, 


32  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

spooned  the  contents  slowly  back  into  the  cup 
again. 

"  Captain  Tyrell  leave  any  money  ?  "  he  enquired. 

"  Other  way  about,"  replied  Flower.  "  I  lent 
him,  altogether,  close  on  a  hundred  pounds.  He 
was  a  man  of  very  good  position,  but  he  took  to 
drink  and  lost  his  ship  and  his  self-respect,  and  all 
he  left  behind  was  his  debts  and  his  daughter." 

"  Well,  you're  in  a  tight  place,"  said  Fraser,  "  and 
I  don't  see  how  you're  going  to  get  out  of  it.  Miss 
Tipping's  got  a  bit  of  a  clue  to  you  now,  and  if  she 
once  discovers  you,  you're  done.  Besides,  suppose 
Miss  Tyrell  finds  anything  out?  " 

"  It's  all  excitement,"  said  Flower,  cheerfully. 
"  I've  been  in  worse  scrapes  than  this  and  always 
got  out  of  'em.  I  don't  like  a  quiet  life.  I  never 
worry  about  things,  Jack,  because  I've  noticed  that 
the  things  people  worry  about  never  happen." 

"  Well,  if  I  were  you,  then,"  said  the  other,  em- 
phasizing his  point  with  the  spoon,  "  I  should  just 
worry  as  much  as  I  could  about  it.  I'd  get  up 
worrying  and  I'd  go  to  bed  worrying.  Td  worry 
about  it  in  my  sleep." 

"  I  shall  come  out  of  it  all  right,"  said  Flower. 
"  I  rather  enjoy  it.  There's  Gibson  would  marry 
Elizabeth  like  a  shot  if  she'd  have  him ;  but,  of 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  33 

course,  she  won't  look  at  him  while  I'm  above 
ground.  I  have  thought  of  getting  somebody  to 
tell  Elizabeth  a  lot  of  lies  about  me." 

"  Why,  wouldn't  the  truth  do  ?  "  enquired  the 
mate,  artlessly. 

The  skipper  turned  a  deaf  ear.  *'  But  she  wouldn't 
believe  a  word  against  me,"  he  said,  with  mournful 
pride,  as  he  rose  and  went  on  deck.  "  She  trusts 
me  too  much." 

From  his  knitted  brows,  as  he  steered,  it  was  evi- 
dent, despite  his  confidence,  that  this  amiable  weak- 
ness on  the  part  of  Miss  Banks  was  causing  him 
some  anxiety,  a  condition  which  was  not  lessened 
by  the  considerate  behaviour  of  the  mate,  who, 
when  any  fresh  complication  suggested  itself  to 
him,  dutifully  submitted  it  to  his  commander. 

"  I  shall  be  ail  right,"  said  Flower,  confidently, 
as  they  entered  the  river  the  following  afternoon 
and  sailed  slowly  along  the  narrow  channel  which 
wfound  its  sluggish  way  through  an  expanse  of  mud- 
banks  to  Seabridge. 

The  mate,  who  was  suffering  from  symptoms 
hitherto  unknown  to  him,  made  no  reply.  His  gaze 
wandered  idly  from  the  sloping  uplands,  stretching 
away  into  the  dim  country  on  the  starboard  side,  to 
the  little  church-crowned  town  ahead,  with  its  out- 


34  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

lying  malt  houses  and  neglected,  grass-grown  quay. 
A  couple  of  moribund  ship's  boats  lay  rotting  in  the 
mud,  and  the  skeleton  of  a  fishing-boat  completed 
the  picture.  For  the  first  time  perhaps  in  his  life, 
the  landscape  struck  him  as  dull  and  dreary. 

Two  men  of  soft  and  restful  movements  appeared 
on  the  quay  as  they  approached,  and  with  the  slow- 
ness characteristic  of  the  best  work,  helped  to  make 
them  fast  in  front  of  the  red-tiled  barn  which  served 
as  a  warehouse.  Then  Captain  Flower,  after  de- 
scending to  the  cabin  to  make  the  brief  shore-going 
toilet  necessary  for  Seabridge  society,  turned  to 
give  a  last  word  to  the  mate. 

"  I'm  not  one  to  care  much  what's  said  about  me, 
Jack,"  he  began,  by  way  of  preface. 

"That's  a  good  job  for  you,"  said  Fraser,  slowly. 

"  Same  time  let  the  hands  know  I  wish  'em  to 
keep  their  mouths  shut,"  pursued  the  skipper ;  "  just 
tell  them  it  was  a  girl  that  you  knew,  and  I  don't 
want  it  talked  about  for  fear  of  getting  you  into 
trouble.  Keep  me  out  of  it ;  that's  all  I  ask." 

"  If  cheek  will  pull  you  through,"  said  Fraser, 
with  a  slight  display  of  emotion,  "  you'll  do.  Per- 
haps I'd  better  say  that  MissTyrell  came  to  see  me, 
too.  How  would  you  like  that  ?  " 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  35 

"  Ah,  it  would  be  as  well,"  said  Flower,  heartily. 
"  I  never  thought  of  it." 

He  stepped  ashore,  and  at  an  easy  pace  walked 
along  the  steep  road  which  led  to  the  houses  above. 
The  afternoon  was  merging  into  evening,  and  a 
pleasant  stillness  was  in  the  air.  Menfolk  working 
in  their  cottage  gardens  saluted  him  as  he  passed, 
and  the  occasional  whiteness  of  a  face  at  the  back 
of  a  window  indicated  an  interest  in  his  affairs  on 
the  part  of  the  fairer  citizens  of  Seabridge.  At  the 
gate  of  the  first  of  an  ancient  row  of  cottages,  con- 
veniently situated  within  hail  of  The  Grapes,  The 
Thorn,  and  The  Swan,  he  paused,  and  walking  up 
the  trim-kept  garden  path,  knocked  at  the  door. 

It  was  opened  by  a  stranger — a  woman  of  early 
middle  age,  dressed  in  a  style  to  which  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  row  had  long  been  unaccustomed. 
The  practised  eye  of  the  skipper  at  once  classed 
her  as  "  rather  good-looking." 

"  Captain  Barber's  in  the  garden/*  she  said, 
smiling.  "  He  wasn't  expecting  you'd  be  up  just 
yet." 

The  skipper  followed  her  in  silence,  and,  after 
shaking  hands  with  the  short,  red-faced  man  with 
the  grey  beard  and  shaven  lip,  who  sat  with  a 
paper  on  his  knee,  stood  watching  in  blank  aston- 


36  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

ishment  as  the  stranger  carefully  filled  the  old 
man's  pipe  and  gave  him  a  light.  Their  eyes  meet- 
ing, the  uncle  winked  solemnly  at  the  nephew. 

"  This  is  Mrs.  Church,"  he  said,  slowly  ;  "  this  is 
my  nevy,  Cap'n  Fred  Flower." 

"  I  should  have  known  him  anywhere,"  declared 
Mrs.  Church  ;  "  the  likeness  is  wonderful." 

Captain  Barber  chuckled— loudly  enough  for 
them  to  hear. 

"  Me  and  Mrs.  Church  have  been  watering  the  flow- 
ers," he  said.  "  Give  'em  a  good  watering,  we  have." 

"  I  never  really  knew  before  what  a  lot  there  was 
in  watering,"  admitted  Mrs.  Church. 

"  There's  a  right  way  and  a  wrong  in  doing  every- 
thing," said  Captain  Barber,  severely ;  "  most  peo- 
ple chooses  the  wrong.  If  it  wasn't  so,  those  of  us 
who  have  got  on,  wouldn't  have  got  on." 

"  That's  very  true,"  said  Mrs.  Church,  shaking 
her  head. 

"  And  them  as  haven't  got  on  would  have  got 
on,"  said  the  philosopher,  following  up  his  train  of 
thought.  "  If  you  would  just  go  out  and  get  them 
things  I  spoke  to  you  about,  Mrs.  Church,  we  shall 
be  all  right." 

4<  Who  is  it  ?  "  enquired  the  nephew,  as  soon  as 
she  had  gone. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  37 

Captain  Barber  looked  stealthily  round,  and, 
for  the  second  time  that  evening,  winked  at  his 
nephew. 

"  A  visitor  ?  "  said  Flower. 

Captain  Barber  winked  again,  and  then  laughed 
into  his  pipe  until  it  gurgled. 

"  It's  a  little  plan  o'  mine,"  he  said,  when  he  had 
become  a  little  more  composed.  "  She's  my  house- 
keeper." 

"  Housekeeper  ?  "  repeated  the  astonished  Flower. 

"Bein'  all  alone  here,"  said  Uncle  Barber,  "I 
think  a  lot.  I  sit  an*  think  until  I  get  an  idea.  It 
comes  quite  sudden  like,  and  I  wonder  I  never 
^thought  of  it  before." 

"But  what  did  you  want  a  housekeeper  for?" 
enquired  his  nephew.  "  Where's  Lizzie  ?  " 

"  I  got  rid  of  her,"  said  Captain  Barber.  "  I  got 
a  housekeeper  because  I  thought  it  was  time  you 
got  married.  Now  do  you  see  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Flower,  shortly. 

Captain  Barber  laughed  softly  and,  relighting  his 
pipe  which  had  gone  out,  leaned  back  in  his  chair 
and  again  winked  at  his  indignant  nephew. 

"  Mrs.  Banks,"  he  said,  suggestively. 

His  nephew  gazed  at  him  blankly. 

Captain   Barber,    sighing   good-naturedly   at   his 


38  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

dulness,  turned   his  chair  a  bit  and  explained  the 
situation. 

"  Mrs.  Banks  won't  let  you  and  Elizabeth  marry 
till  she's  gone,"  said  he. 

His  nephew  nodded. 

"  I've  been  at  her  ever  so  long,"  said  the  other, 
"  but  she's  firm.  Now  I'm  trying  artfulness.  I've 
got  a  good-looking  housekeeper — she's  the  pick  o' 
seventeen  what  all  come  here  Wednesday  morning 
— and  I'm  making  love  to  her." 

"  Making  love  to  her,"  shouted  his  nephew,  gaz- 
ing wildly  at  the  venerable  bald  head  with  the 
smoking-cap  resting  on  one  huge  ear. 

"  Making  love  to  her,"  repeated  Captain  Barber, 
with  a  satisfied  air.  "What'll  happen?  Mrs. 
Banks,  to  prevent  me  getting  married,  as  she  thinks, 
will  give  her  consent  to  you  an*  Elizabeth  getting 
tied  up." 

"  Haven't  you  ever  heard  of  breach  of  promise 
cases?"  asked  his  nephew,  aghast. 

"  There's  no  fear  o'  that,"  said  Captain  Barber, 
confidently.  "  It's  all  right  with  Mrs.  Church : 
she's  a  widder.  A  widder  ain't  like  a  young  girl  • 
she  knows  you  don't  mean  anything." 

It  was  useless  to  argue  with  such  stupendous 
folly  ;  Captain  Flower  tried  another  tack. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  39 

"  And  suppose  Mrs.  Church  gets  fond  of  you," 
he  said,  gravely.  "  It  doesn't  seem  right  to  trifle 
with  a  woman's  affections  like  that." 

"  I  won't  go  too  far,"  said  the  lady-killer  in  the 
smoking-cap,  reassuringly. 

"  Elizabeth  and  her  mother  are  still  away,  I  sup- 
pose ?  "  said  Flower,  after  a  pause. 

His  uncle  nodded. 

"  So,  of  course,  you  needn't  do  much  love-making 
till  they  come  back,"  said  his  nephew ;  "  it's  waste 
of  time,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  I'll  just  keep  my  hand  in,"  said  Captain  Barber, 
thoughtfully.  "  I  can't  say  as  I  find  it  disagreeable. 
I  was  always  one  to  take  a  little  notice  of  the 
sects." 

He  got  up  to  go  indoors.  "  Never  mind  about 
them,"  he  said,  as  his  nephew  was  about  to  follow 
with  the  chair  and  his  tobacco-jar ;  "  Mrs.  Church 
likes  to  do  that  herself,  and  she'd  be  disappointed 
if  anybody  else  did  it." 

His  nephew  followed  him  to  the  house  in  silence, 
listening  later  on  with  a  gloomy  feeling  of  alarm  to 
the  conversation  at  the  supper-table.  The  rdle  of 
gooseberry  was  new  to  him,  and  when  Mrs.  Church 
got  up  from  the  table  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
proving  her  contention  that  Captain  Barber  looked 


40  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

better  in  his  black  velvet  smoking-cap  than  the  one 
he  was  wearing  he  was  almost  on  the  point  of 
exceeding  his  duties. 

He  took  the  mate  into  his  confidence  the  next 
day,  and  asked  him  what  he  thought  of  it.  Fraser 
said  that  it  was  evidently  in  the  blood,  and,  being 
pressed  with  some  heat  for  an  explanation,  said 
that  he  meant  Captain  Barber's  blood. 

"It's  bad,  any  way  I  look  at  it,"  said  Flower; 
"  it  may  bring  matters  between  me  and  Elizabeth 
to  a  head,  or  it  may  end  in  my  uncle  marrying  the 
woman." 

"  Very  likely  both,"  said  Fraser,  cheerfully.  "  Is 
this  Mrs.  Church  good-looking?" 

"  I  can  hardly  say,"  said  Flower,  pondering. 

"Well,  good-looking  enough  for  you  to  feel 
inclined  to  take  any  notice  of  her?"  asked  the 
mate. 

"  When  you  can  talk  seriously,"  said  the  skipper, 
in  great  wrath,  u  I'll  be  pleased  to  answer  you. 
Just  at  present  I  don't  feel  in  the  sort  of  temper  to 
be  made  fun  of." 

He  walked  off  in  dudgeon,  and,  until  they  were 
on  their  way  to  London  again,  treated  the  mate 
with  marked  coldness.  Then  the  necessity  of  talk- 
ing to  somebody  about  his  own  troubles  and  his 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  41 

uncle's  idiocy  put  the  two  men  on  their  old  foot- 
ing. In  the  quietness  of  the  cabin,  over  a  satisfy- 
ing pipe,  he  planned  out  in  a  kindly  and  generous 
spirit  careers  for  both  the  ladies  he  was  not  going 
to  marry.  The  only  thing  that  was  wanted  to 
complete  their  happiness,  and  his,  was  that  they 
should  fall  in  with  the  measures  proposed. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

AT  No.  5  Listen  Street,  Poppy  Tyrell  sat  at  the 
open  window  of  her  room  reading0  The  outside 
air  was  pleasant,  despite  the  fact  that  Poplar  is  a 
somewhat  crowded  neighbourhood,  and  it  was  ren- 
dered more  pleasant  by  comparison  with  the  atmo- 
sphere inside,  which,  from  a  warm,  soft  smell  not  to 
be  described  by  comparison,  suggested  washing. 
In  the  stone-paved  yard  beneath  the  window,  a 
small  daughter  of  the  house  hung  out  garments  of 
various  hues  and  shapes,  while  inside,  in  the  scul- 
lery, the  master  of  the  house  was  doing  the  family 
washing  with  all  the  secrecy  and  trepidation  of  one 
engaged  in  an  unlawful  task.  The  Wheeler  family 
was  a  large  one,  and  the  wash  heavy,  and  besides 
misadventures  to  one  or  two  garments,  sorted  out 
for  further  consideration,  the  small  girl  was  severely 
critical  about  the  colour,  averring  sharply  that  she 
was  almost  ashamed  to  put  them  on  the  line. 

"They'll  dry  clean,"  said  her  father,  wiping  his 
brow  with  the  upper  part  of  his  arm,  the  only  part 
which  was  dry;  "and  if  they  don't  we  must  tell 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  43 

your  mother  that  the  line  came  down.  I'll  show 
these  to  her  now." 

He  took  up  the  wet  clothes  and,  cautiously  leav- 
ing the  scullery,  crossed  the  passage  to  the  parlour, 
where  Mrs.  Wheeler,  a  confirmed  invalid,  was  lying 
on  a  ramshackle  sofa,  darning  socks.  Mr.  Wheeler 
coughed  to  attract  her  attention,  and  with  an  apol- 
ogetic expression  of  visage  held  up  a  small,  pink 
garment  of  the  knickerbocker  species,  and  prepared 
for  the  worst. 

"They've  never  shrunk  like  that?"  said  Mrs. 
Wheeler,  starting  up. 

"  They  have,"  said  her  husband,  "  all  by  itself," 
he  added,  in  hasty  self-defence. 

"  You've  had  it  in  the  soda,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler, 
disregarding. 

"  I've  not,"  said  Mr.  Wheeler,  vehemently.  "  I've 
got  the  two  tubs  there,  flannels  in  one  without 
soda,  the  other  things  in  the  other  with  soda.  It's 
bad  stuff,  that's  what  it  is.  I  thought  I'd  show  you." 

"  It's  management  they  want,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler, 
wearily  ;  "  it's  the  touch  you  have  to  give  'em.  I 
can't  explain,  but  I  know  they  wouldn't  have  gone 
like  that  if  I'd  done  'em.  What's  that  you're  hid- 
ing  behind  you  ?  " 

Thus  attacked,  Mr.  Wheeler  produced  his  other 


44  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

hand,  and  shaking  out  a  blue  and  white  shirt, 
showed  how  the  blue  had  been  wandering  over  the 
white  territory,  and  how  the  white  had  apparently 
accepted  a  permanent  occupation. 

"What  do  you  say  to  that?"  he  enquired,  des- 
perately. 

"  You'd  better  ask  Bob  what  he  says,"  said  his 
wife,  aghast ;  "you  know  how  pertickler  he  is,  too. 
I  told  you  as  plain  as  a  woman  could  speak,  not  to 
boil  that  shirt." 

"  Well,  it  can't  be  helped/'  said  Mr.  Wheeler, 
with  a  philosophy  he  hoped  his  son  would  imitate. 
"  I  wasn't  brought  up  to  the  washing,  Polly." 

"  It's  a  sin  to  spoil  good  things  like  that,"  said 
Mrs.  Wheeler,  fretfully.  "  Bob's  quite  the  gentle- 
man— he  will  buy  such  expensive  shirts.  Take  it 
away,  I  can't  bear  to  look  at  it." 

Mr.  Wheeler,  considerably  crestfallen,  was 
about  to  obey,  when  he  was  startled  by  a  knock  at 
the  door. 

"  That's  Captain  Flower,  I  expect,"  said  his  wife, 
hastily  ;  "  he's  going  to  take  Poppy  and  Emma  to 
a  theatre  to-night.  Don't  let  him  see  you  in  that 
state,  Peter." 

But  Mr.  Wheeler  was  already  fumbling  at  the 
strings  of  his  apron,  and,  despairing  of  undoing  it, 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  45 

broke  the   string,    and   pitched  it   with   the  other 
clothes  under  the  sofa  and  hastily  donned  his  coat. 

"  Good-evening,"  said  Flower,  as  Mr.  Wheeler 
opened  the  door ;  "  this  is  my  mate." 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Wheeler. 

The  mate  made  his  acknowledgments,  and  hav- 
ing shaken  hands,  carefully  wiped  his  down  the 
leg  of  his  trousers. 

"  Moist  hand  you've  got,  Wheeler,"  said  Flower, 
who  had  been  doing  the  same  thing. 

"Got  some  dye  on  'em  at  the  docks,"  said 
Wheeler,  glibly.  "  I've  'ad  'em  in  soak." 

Flower  nodded,  and  after  a  brief  exchange  of 
courtesies  with  Mrs.  Wheeler  as  he  passed  the 
door,  led  the  way  up  the  narrow  staircase  to  Miss 
Tyrell's  room. 

"  I've  brought  him  with  me,  so  that  he'll  be  com- 
pany for  Emma  Wheeler,"  said  the  skipper,  as 
Fraser  shook  hands  with  her,  "and  you  must  look 
sharp  if  you  want  to  get  good  seats. 

"  I'm  ready  all  but  my  hat  and  jacket,"  said 
Poppy,  "  and  Emma's  in  her  room  getting  ready, 
too.  All  the  children  are  up  there  helping  her." 

Fraser  opened  his  eyes  at  such  a  toilet,  and  be- 
gan secretly  to  wish  that  he  had  paid  more  attention 
to  his  own. 


46  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  I  hope  you're  not  shy  ?  "  said  Miss  Tyrell,  who 
found  his  steadfast  gaze  somewhat  embarrassing. 

Fraser  shook  his  head.  "  No,  I'm  not  shy,"  he 
said,  quietly. 

"  Because  Emma  didn't  know  you  were  coming/' 
continued  Miss  Tyrell,  "  and  she's  always  shy. 
So  you  must  be  bold,  you  know." 

The  mate  nodded  as  confidently  as  he  could. 
"  Shyness  has  never  been  one  of  my  failings,"  he 
said,  nervously. 

Further  conversation  was  rendered  difficult,  if 
not  impossible,  by  one  which  now  took  place  out- 
side. It  was  conducted  between  a  small  Wheeler 
on  the  top  of  the  stairs  and  Mrs.  Wheeler  in  the 
parlour  below.  The  subject  was  hairpins,  an  article 
in  which  it  appeared  Miss  Wheeler  was  lamentably 
deficient,  owing,  it  was  suggested,  to  a  weakness  of 
Mrs.  Wheeler's  for  picking  up  stray  ones  and  putting 
them  in  her  hair.  The  conversation  ended  in  Mrs. 
Wheeler,  whose  thin  voice  was  heard  hotly  combat- 
ing these  charges,  parting  with  six,  without  preju- 
dice ;  and  a  few  minutes  later  Miss  Wheeler, 
somewhat  flushed,  entered  the  room  and  was 
introduced  to  the  mate. 

"All  ready?"  enquired  Flower,  as  Miss  Tyreli 
drew  on  her  gloves. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  47 

They  went  downstairs  in  single  file,  the  builder 
of  the  house  having  left  no  option  in  the  matter, 
while  the  small  Wheelers,  breathing  hard  with 
excitement,  watched  them  over  the  balusters. 
Outside  the  house  the  two  ladies  paired  off,  leaving 
the  two  men  to  follow  behind. 

The  mate  noticed,  with  a  strong  sense  of  his  own 
unworthiness,  that  the  two  ladies  seemed  thoroughly 
engrossed  in  each  other's  company,  and  oblivious  to 
all  else.  A  suggestion  from  Flower  that  he  should 
close  up  and  take  off  Miss  Wheeler,  seemed  to  him 
to  border  upon  audacity,  but  he  meekly  followed 
Flower  as  that  bold  mariner  ranged  himself  along- 
side the  girls,  and  taking  two  steps  on  the  curb  and 
three  in  the  gutter,  walked  along  for  some  time 
trying  to  think  of  something  to  say. 

"  There  ain't  room  for  four  abreast,"  said  Flower, 
who  had  been  scraping  against  the  wall.  "  We'd 
better  split  up  into  twos." 

At  the  suggestion  the  ladies  drifted  apart,  and 
Flower,  taking  Miss  Tyrell's  arm,  left  the  mate  be- 
hind with  Miss  Wheeler,  nervously  wondering 
whether  he  ought  to  do  the  same. 

"  I  hope  it  won't  rain,"  he  said,  at  last. 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  Miss  Wheeler,  glancing  up  at 
a  sky  which  was  absolutely  cloudless. 


48  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  So  bad  for  ladies'  dresses,"  continued  the  mate. 

"What  is?"  enquired  Miss  Wheeler,  who  had 
covered  some  distance  since  the  last  remark. 

"  Rain,"  said  the  mate,  quite  freshly.  "  I  don't 
think  we  shall  have  any,  though." 

Miss  Wheeler  whose  life  had  been  passed  in  a 
neighbourhood  in  which  there  was  only  one  explana- 
tion for  such  conduct,  concluded  that  he  had  been 
drinking,  and,  closing  her  lips  tightly,  said  no  more 
until  they  reached  the  theatre. 

"  Oh,  they're  going  in,"  she  said,  quickly  ;  "  we 
shall  get  a  bad  seat." 

"  Hurry  up,"  cried  Flower,  beckoning. 

"  I'll  pay,"  whispered  the  mate. 

"  No,  I  will,"  said  Flower.  "  Well,  you  pay  for 
one  and  I'll  pay  for  one,  then." 

He  pushed  his  way  to  the  window  and  bought  a 
couple  of  pit-stalls ;  the  mate,  who  had  not  con- 
sulted him,  bought  upper-circles,  and,  with  a  glance 
at  the  ladies,  pushed  open  the  swing-doors. 

"  Come  on,"  he  said,  excitedly ;  and  seeing  several 
people  racing  up  the  broad  stone  stairs,  he  and 
Miss  Tyrell  raced  with  them. 

"  Round  this  side,"  he  cried,  hastily,  as  he  gave 
up  the  tickets,  and,  followed  by  Miss  Tyrell,  quickly 
secured  a  couple  of  seats  at  the  end  of  the  front  row. 


A  MASTER  <JF  CRAFT.  49 

"  Best  seats  in  the  house  almost,"  said  Poppy, 
cheerfully. 

"  Where  are  the  others  ?  "  said  Fraser,  looking 
round. 

"Coming  on  behind,  I  suppose/'  said  Poppy 
glancing  over  her  shoulder. 

"  I'll  change  places  when  they  arrive,"  said  the 
other,  apologetically  ;  "  something's  detained  them, 
I  should  think.  I  hope  they're  not  waiting  for  us." 

He  stood  looking  about  him  uneasily  as  the  seats 
behind  rapidly  filled,  and  closely  scanned  their  oc- 
cupants, and  then,  leaving  his  hat  on  the  seat, 
walked  back  in  perplexity  to  the  door. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Miss  Tyrell,  quietly,  as  he 
came  back.  "  I  daresay  they'll  find  us." 

Fraser  bought  a  programme  and  sat  down,  the 
brim  of  Miss  Tyrell's  hat  touching  his  face  as  she 
bent  to  peruse  it.  With  her  small  gloved  finger 
she  pointed  out  the  leading  characters,  and  taking 
no  notice  of  his  restlessness,  began  to  chat  gaily 
about  the  plays  she  had  seen,  until  a  tuning  of 
violins  from  the  orchestra  caused  her  to  lean  forward, 
her  lips  parted  and  her  eyes  beaming  with  anticipation. 

"  I  do  hope  the  others  have  got  good  seats,"  she 
said,  softly,  as  the  overture  finished  ;  "  that's  every- 
thing,  isn't  it?" 


50  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  Fraser. 

He  leaned  forward,  excitedly.  Not  because  the 
curtain  was  rising,  but  because  he  had  just  caught 
sight  of  a  figure  standing  up  in  the  centre  of  the 
pit-stalls.  He  had  just  time  to  call  his  companion's 
attention  to  it  when  the  figure,  in  deference  to  the 
threats  and  entreaties  of  the  people  behind,  sat 
down  and  was  lost  in  the  crowd. 

"They  have  got  good  seats,"  said  Miss  Tyrell. 
"  I'm  so  glad.  What  a  beautiful  scene." 

The  mate,  stifling  his  misgivings,  gave  himself 
up  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  situation,' which  in- 
cluded answering  the  breathless  whispers  of  his 
neighbour  when  she  missed  a  sentence,  and  helping 
her  to  discover  the  identity  of  the  characters  from 
the  programme  as  they  appeared. 

"  I  should  like  it  all  over  again,"  said  Miss 
Tyrell,  sitting  back  in  her  seat,  as  the  curtain  fell 
on  the  first  act. 

Fraser  agreed  with  her.  He  was  closely  watch- 
ing the  pit-stalls.  In  the  general  movement  on  the 
part  of  the  audience  which  followed  the  lowering  of 
the  curtain,  the  master  of  the  Foam  was  the  first  on 
his  feet. 

"  I'll  go  down  and  send  him  up,"  said  Fraser, 
rising. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  51 

Miss  Tyrell  demurred,  and  revealed  an  unsus- 
pected timidity  of  character.  "  I  don't  like  being 
left  here  all  alone,"  she  remarked.  "  Wait  till  they 
see  us." 

She  spoke  in  the  plural,  for  Miss  Wheeler,  who 
found  the  skipper  exceedingly  bad  company,  had 
also  risen,  and  was  scrutinising  the  house  with  a 
gaze  hardly  less  eager  than  his  own.  A  suggestion 
of  the  mate  that  he  should  wave  his  handkerchief 
was  promptly  negatived  by  Miss  Tyrell,  on  the 
ground  that  it  would  not  be  the  correct  thing  to  do 
in  the  upper-circle,  and  they  were  still  undiscovered 
when  the  curtain  went  up  for  the  second  act,  and 
strong  and  willing  hands  from  behind  thrust  the 
skipper  back  into  his  seat. 

"  I  expect  you'll  catch  it,"  said  Miss  Tyrell, 
softly,  as  the  performance  came  to  an  end  ;  "  we'd 
better  go  down  and  wait  for  them  outside.  I  never 
enjoyed  a  piece  so  much." 

The  mate  rose  and  mingled  with  the  crowd,  con- 
scious of  a  little  occasional  clutch  at  his  sleeve 
whenever  other  people  threatened  to  come  between 
them.  Outside  the  crowd  dispersed  slowly,  and  it 
was  some  minutes  before  they  discovered  a  small 
but  compact  knot  of  two  waiting  for  them. 

"  Where  the "  began  Flower. 


52  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT, 

"  I  hope  you  enjoyed  the  performance,  Captain 
Flower,"  said  Miss  Tyrell,  drawing  herself  up  with 
some  dignity.  "  I  didn't  know  that  I  was  supposed 
to  look  out  for  myself  all  the  evening.  If  it  hadn't 
been  for  Mr.  Fraser  I  should  have  been  all  alone." 

She  looked  hard  at  Miss  Wheeler  as  she  spoke, 
and  the  couple  from  the  pit-stalls  reddened  with  in- 
dignation at  being  so  misunderstood. 

"  I'm  sure  I  didn't  want  him,"  said  Miss  Wheeler, 
hastily.  "  Two  or  three  times  I  thought  there 
would  have  been  a  fight  with  the  people  behind." 

"  Oh,  it  doesn't  matter,"  said  Miss  Tyrell,  com- 
posedly.  "  Well,  it's  no  good  standing  here.  We'd 
better  get  home." 

She  walked  off  with  the  mate,  leaving  the  couple 
behind,  who  realised  that  appearances  were  against 
them,  to  follow  at  their  leisure.  Conversation  was 
mostly  on  her  side,  the  mate  being  too  much  occu- 
pied with  his  defence  to  make  any  very  long  or  very 
coherent  replies. 

They  reached  Liston  Street  at  last,  and  separated 
at  the  door,  Miss  Tyrell  shaking  hands  with  the 
skipper  in  a  way  which  conveyed  in  the  fullest  pos- 
sible manner  her  opinion  of  his  behaviour  that 
evening.  A  bright  smile  and  a  genial  hand-shake 
were  reserved  for  the  mate. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  53 

"  And  now,"  said  the  incensed  skipper,  breathing 
deeply  as  the  door  closed  and  they  walked  up  Lis- 
ton  Street,  "  what  the  deuce  do  you  mean  by  it  ?  " 

"  Mean  by  what  ?  "  Demanded  the  mate,  who, 
after  much  thought,  had  decided  to  take  a  leaf  out 
of  Miss  Tyrell's  book. 

"  Mean  by  leaving  me  in  another  part  of  the 
house  with  that  Wheeler  girl  while  you  and  my  in- 
tended  went  off  together?"  growled  Flower  fero- 
ciously. 

"  Well,  I  could  only  think  you  wanted  it,"  said 
Fraser,  in  a  firm  voice. 

"  What  ? "  demanded  the  other,  hardly  able  to 
believe  his  ears 

"  I  thought  you  wanted  Miss  Wheeler  for  number 
four,"  said  the  mate,  calmly.  "You  know  what  a 
chap  you  are,  cap'n." 

His  companion  stopped  and  regarded  him  in 
speechless  amaze,  then  realising  a  vocabulary  to 
which  Miss  Wheeler  had  acted  as  a  safety-valve  all 
the  evening,  he  turned  up  a  side  street  and  stamped 
his  way  back  to  the  Foam  alone. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  same  day  that  Flower  and  his  friends  visited 
the  theatre,  Captain  Barber  gave  a  small  and  select 
tea-party.  The  astonished  Mrs.  Banks  had  re- 
turned home  with  her  daughter  the  day  before  to 
find  the  air  full  of  rumours  about  Captain  Barber 
and  his  new  housekeeper.  They  had  been  watched 
for  hours  at  a  time  from  upper  back  windows  of 
houses  in  the  same  row,  and  the  professional 
opinion  of  the  entire  female  element  was  that  Mrs. 
Church  could  land  her  fish  at  any  time  she  thought 
fit. 

"Old  fools  are  the  worst  of  fools,"  said  Mrs. 
Banks,  tersely,  as  she  tied  her  bonnet  strings  ;  "  the 
idea  of  Captain  Barber  thinking  of  marrying  at  his 
time  of  life." 

"  Why  shouldn't  he  ?  "  enquired  her  daughter. 

"  Why  because  he's  promised  to  leave  his  prop- 
erty to  Fred  and  you,  of  course,"  snapped  the  old 
lady  ;  "  if  he  marries  that  hussy  it's  precious  little 
you  and  Fred  will  get." 

"  I  expect  it's   mostly  talk,"  said   her  daughter. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  55 

calmly,  as  she  closed  the  street  door  behind  her  in- 
dignant parent.  "  People  used  to  talk  about  you 
and  old  Mr.  Wilders,  and  there  was  nothing  in  it. 
He  only  used  to  come  for  a  glass  of  your  ale." 

This  reference  to  an  admirer  who  had  consumed 
several  barrels  of  the  liquor  in  question  without 
losing  his  head,  put  the  finishing  touch  to  the  elder 
lady's  wrath,  and  she  walked  the  rest  of  the  way  in 
ominous  silence. 

Captain  Barber  received  them  in  the  elaborate 
velvet  smoking-cap  with  the  gold  tassel  which  had 
evoked  such  strong  encomiums  from  Mrs.  Church, 
and  in  a  few  well-chosen  words — carefully  rehearsed 
that  afternoon — presented  his  housekeeper. 

"  Will  you  come  up  to  my  room  and  take  your 
things  off?"  enquired  Mrs.  Church,  returning  the 
old  lady's  hostile  stare  with  interest. 

"  I'll  take  mine  off  down  here,  if  Captain  Barber 
doesn't  mind,"  said  the  latter,  subsiding  into  a 
chair  with  a  gasp.  "  Him  and  me's  very  old 
friends." 

She  unfastened  the  strings  of  her  bonnet,  and, 
taking  off  that  article  of  attire,  placed  it  in  her  lap 
while  she  unfastened  her  shawl.  She  then  held 
both  out  to  Mrs.  Church,  briefly  exhorting  her  to 
be  careful. 


56  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT0 

"  Oh,  what  a  lovely  bonnet,"  said  that  lady,  in 
false  ecstasy.  "  What  a  perfect  beauty !  I've 
never  seen  anything  like  it  before.  Never !  " 

Captain  Barber,  smiling  at  the  politeness  of  his 
housekeeper,  was  alarmed  and  perplexed  at  the 
generous  colour  which  suddenly  filled  the  old  lady's 
cheeks. 

"  Mrs.  Banks  made  it  herself,"  he  said,  "  she's 
very  clever  at  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  There,  do  you  know  I  guessed  as  much,"  said 
Mrs.  Church,  beaming  ;  "  directly  I  saw  it,  I  said  to 
myself :  *  That  was  never  made  by  a  milliner. 
There's  too  much  taste  in  the  way  the  flowers  are 
arranged.' ' 

Mrs.  Banks  looked  at  her  daughter,  in  a  mute 
appeal  for  help. 

"Ill  take  yours  up,  too,  shall  I?"  said  the  ami- 
able housekeeper,  as  Mrs.  Banks,  with  an  air  of 
defying  criticism,  drew  a  cap  from  a  paper-bag  and 
put  it  on. 

"  I'll  take  mine  myself,  please,"  said  Miss  Banks, 
with  coldness. 

"  Oh,  well,  you  may  as  well  take  them  all  then," 
said  Mrs.  Church,  putt-ing  the  mother's  bonnet  and 
shawl  ia  her  arms.  "  I'll  go  and  see  that  the.  kettle 
boils,"  she  said,  briskly. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  57 

She  returned  a  minute  or  two  later  with  the 
teapot,  and  setting  chairs,  took  the  head  of  the 
table. 

"  And  how's  the  leg?  "  enquired  Captain  Barber, 
misinterpreting  Mrs.  Banks'  screwed-up  face. 

"Which  one?"  asked  Mrs.  Banks,  shortly. 

"  The  bad  *un,"  said  the  captain. 

"  They're  both  bad,"  said  Mrs.  Banks  more 
shortly  than  before,  as  she  noticed  that  Mrs.  Church 
had  got  real  lace  in  her  cuffs  and  was  pouring  out 
the  tea  in  full  consciousness  of  the  fact. 

"  Dear,  dear,"  said  the  Captain  sympathetically. 

"  Swollen?"  enquired  Mrs.  Church,  anxiously. 

"  Swelled  right  out  of  shape,"  exclaimed  Captain 
Barber,  impressively ;  "  like  pillars  almost  they 
are."  " 

"  Poor  thing,"  said  Mrs.  Church,  in  a  voice  which 
made  Mrs.  Banks  itch  to  slap  her.  "  I  knew  a  lady 
once  just  the  same,  but  she  was  a  drinking  woman." 

Again  Mrs.  Banks  at  a  loss  for  words,  looked  at 
her  daughter  for  assistance. 

"  Dear  me,  how  dreadful  it  must  be  to  know 
such  people,"  said  Mrs.  Banks,  shivering. 

"  Yes,"  sighed  the  other.  "  It  used  to  make  me 
feel  sorry  for  her — they  were  utterly  shapeless,  you 
know.  Horrid !  " 


58  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  That's  how  Mrs.  Banks'  are,"  said  the  Captain, 
nodding  sagely.  "  You  look  'ot,  Mrs.  Banks. 
Shall  I  open  the  winder  a  bit  ?  " 

"  I'll  thank  you  not  to  talk  about  me  like  that, 
Captain  Barber,"  said  Mrs.  Banks,  the  flowers  on 
her  hat  trembling. 

"As  you  please,  ma'am,"  said  Captain  Barber, 
with  a  stateliness  which  deserved  a  better  subject. 
"  I  was  only  repeating  what  Dr.  Hodder  told  me 
in  your  presence." 

Mrs.  Banks  made  no  reply,  but  created  a  diver- 
sion by  passing  her  cup  up  for  more  tea ;  her  feel- 
ings, when  Mrs.  Church  took  off  the  lid  of  the 
teapot  and  poured  in  about  a  pint  of  water  before 
helping  her,  belonging  to  that  kind  known  as  in- 
describable. 

"  Water  bewitched,  and  tea  begrudged,"  she  said, 
trying  to  speak  jocularly. 

"  Well,  the  fourth  cup  never  is  very  good,  is  it," 
said  Mrs.  Church,  apologetically.  "  I'll  put  some 
more  tea  in,  so  that  your  next  cup'll  be  better." 

As  a  matter  of  fact  it  was  Mrs.  Banks'  third  cup, 
and  she  said  so,  Mrs.  Church  receiving  the  correc- 
tion with  a  polite  smile,  more  than  tinged  with 
incredulity. 

"  It's  wonderful  what  a  lot  of  tea  is  drunk,"  eaicj 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  59 

Captain  Barber,  impressively,  looking  round  the 
table. 

"  I've  heard  say  it's  like  spirit  drinking,"  said 
Mrs.  Church ;  "  they  say  it  gets  such  a  hold  of 
people  that  they  can't  give  it  up.  They're  just 
slaves  to  it,  and  they  like  it  brown  and  strong  like 
brandy. " 

Mrs.  Banks,  who  had  been  making  noble  efforts, 
could  contain  herself  no  longer.  She  put  down 
the  harmless  beverage  which  had  just  been  handed 
to  her,  and  pushed  her  chair  back  from  the  table. 

"  Are  you  speaking  of  me,  young  woman  ?  "  she 
asked,  tremulous  with  indignation. 

"  Oh,  no,  certainly  not,"  said  Mrs.  Church,  in 
great  distress.  "  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing. 
I  was  alluding  to  the  people  Captain  Barber  was 
talking  of — regular  tea-drinkers,  you  know/' 

"  I  know  what  you  mean,  ma'am,"  said  Mrs. 
Banks  fiercely. 

"There,  there,"  said  Captain  Barber, ill-advisedly, 

"  Don't  you  say  '  there,  there,'  to  me,  Captain 
Barber,  because  I  won't  have  it,"  said  the  old  lady, 
speaking  with  great  rapidity  ;  "  if  you  think  that 
I'm  going  to  sit  here  and  be  insulted  by — by  that 
woman,  you're  mistaken." 

'*  You're   quite   mistook,   Mrs.   Banks,"  said  the 


6o  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

Captain,  slowly.  "  I've  heard  everything  she  said, 
and,  where  the  insult  comes  in,  I'm  sure  I  don't 
know.  I  don't  think  I'm  wanting  in  common  sense, 
ma'am." 

He  patted  the  housekeeper's  hand  kindly,  and, 
in  full  view  of  the  indignant  Mrs.  Banks,  she 
squeezed  his  in  return  and  gazed  at  him  affection- 
ately.  There  is  nothing  humourous  to  the  ordinary 
person  in  a  teacup,  but  Mrs.  Banks,  looking  straight 
into  hers,  broke  into  a  short,  derisive  laugh. 

"  Anything  the  matter,  ma'am  ?  "  enquired  Cap- 
tain  Barber,  regarding  her  somewhat  severely. 

Mrs.  Banks  shook  her  head.  "  Only  thoughts," 
she  said,  mysteriously. 

It  is  difficult  for  a  man  to  object  to  his  visitors 
finding  amusement  in  their  thoughts,  or  even  to 
enquire  too  closely  into  the  nature  of  them.  Mrs. 
Banks,  apparently  realising  this,  laughed  again  with 
increased  acridity,  and  finally  became  so  very 
amused  that  she  shook  in  her  chair. 

"  I'm  glad  you're  enjoying  yourself,  ma'am,"  said 
Captain  Barber,  loftily 

With  a  view,  perhaps,  of  giving  his  guest  further 
amusement  he  patted  the  housekeeper's  hand  again, 
whereupon  Mrs.  Banks'  laughter  ceased,  and  she 
sat  regarding  Mrs.  Church  with  a  petrified  stare, 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  61 

met  by  that  lady  with  a  glance  of  haughty  dis- 
dain. 

"  S'pose  we  go  into  the  garden  a  bit  ?  "  suggested 
Barber,  uneasily.  The  two  ladies  had  eyed  each 
other  for  three  minutes  without  blinking,  and  his 
own  eyes  were  watering  in  sympathy. 

Mrs.  Banks,  secretly  glad  of  the  interruption, 
made  one  or  two  vague  remarks  about  going  home, 
but  after  much  persuasion,  allowed  him  to  lead  her 
into  the  garden,  the  solemn  Elizabeth  bringing  up 
in  the  rear  with  a  hassock  and  a  couple  of  cushions. 

"  It's  a  new  thing  for  you  having  a  housekeeper," 
observed  Mrs.  Banks,  after  her  daughter  had  re- 
turned  to  the  house  to  assist  in  washing  up. 

"Yes,  I  wonder  I  never  thought  of  it  before,"  said 
the  artful  Barber  ;  "  you  wouldn't  believe  how  com- 
fortable  it  is." 

"  I  daresay,"  said  Mrs.  Banks,  grimly. 

"  It's  nice  to  have  a  woman  about  the  house," 
continued  Captain  Barber,  slowly,  "  it  makes  it 
more  homelike.  A  slip  of  a  servant-gal  ain't  no 
good  at  all." 

"  How  does  Fred  like  it?  "  enquired  Mrs.  Banks. 

"  My  ideas  are  Fred's  ideas,"  said  Uncle  Barber, 
somewhat  sharply.  "  What  I  like  he  has  to  like, 
naturally." 


62  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  my  darter,"  said  Mrs.  Banks, 
smoothing  down  her  apron  majestically.  "  The  ar- 
rangement was,  I  think,  that  when  they  were 
married  they  was  to  live  with  you?" 

Captain  Barber  nodded  acquiescence. 

"  Elizabeth  would  never  live  in  a  house  with  that 
woman,  or  any  other  woman,  as  housekeeper  in  it," 
said  the  mother. 

"  Well,  she  won't  have  to,"  said  the  old  man ; 
"  when  they  marry  and  Elizabeth  comes  here,  I 
sha'n't  want  a  housekeeper — I  shall  get  rid  of  her." 

Mrs.  Banks  shifted  in  her  chair,  and  gazed 
thoughtfully  down  the  garden.  "  Of  course  my 
idea  was  for  them  to  wait  till  I  was  gone,"  she  said 
at  length. 

"  Just  so,"  replied  the  other,  "  and  more's  the 
pity." 

"  But  Elizabeth's  getting  on  and  I  don't  seem  to 
go,"  continued  the  old  lady,  as  though  mildly  sur- 
prised at  Providence  for  its  unaccountable  delay ; 
"  and  there's  Fred,  he  ain't  getting  younger." 

Captain  Barber  purled  at  his  pipe.  "  None  of  us 
are,"  he  said  profoundly. 

"  And  Fred  might  get  tired  of  waiting,"  said  Mrs. 
Banks,  ruminating. 

"  He'd  better  let  me  hear  him,"  said  the  uncle, 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  63 

fiercely  ;  "  leastways,  o'  course,  he's  tired  o'  waiting, 
in  a  sense.  He'd  like  to  be  married." 

"  There's  young  Gibson,"  said  Mrs.  Banks  in  a 
thrilling  whisper. 

"  What  about  him  ?  "  enquired  Barber,  surprised 
at  her  manner. 

"Comes  round  after  Elizabeth,"  said  Mrs.  Banks. 

"  No  !  "  said  Captain  Barber,  blankly. 

Mrs.  Banks  pursed  up  her  lips  and  nodded  darkly. 

"  Pretends  to  come  and  see  me,"  said  Mrs.  Banks ; 
"  always  coming  in  bringing  something  new  for  my 
legs.  The  worst  of  it  is  he  ain't  always  careful 
what  he  brings.  He  brought  some  new-fangled 
stuff  in  a  bottle  last  week,  and  the  agonies  I  suf- 
fered after  rubbing  it  in  wouldn't  be  believed." 

"  It's  like  his  impudence,"  said  the  Captain. 

"  I've  been  thinking,"  said  Mrs.  Banks,  nodding 
her  head  with  some  animation,  "of  giving  Fred  a 
little  surprise.  What  do  you  think  he'd  do  if  I  said 
they  might  marry  this  autumn  ?  " 

"Jump  out  of  his  skin  with  joy,"  said  Captain 
Barber,  with  conviction.  "  Mrs.  Banks,  the  pleasure 
you've  given  me  this  day  is  more  than  I  can  say." 

"And  they'll  live  with  you  just  the  same?"  sakJ 
Mrs.  Banks. 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  Captain. 


64  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  They'll  only  be  a  few  doors  off  then,"  said  Mrs. 
Banks,  "  and  it'll  be  nice  for  you  to  have  a  woman 
in  the  house  to  look  after  you." 

Captain  Barber  nodded  softly.  "  It's  what  I've 
been  wanting  for  years/'  he  said,  heartily. 

"  And  that  huss — husskeeper,"  said  Mrs.  Banks, 
correcting  herself — "  will  go?" 

"  O'  course,"  said  Captain  Barber.  "  I  sha'n't 
want  no  housekeeper  with  my  nevy's  wife  in  the 
house.  You've  told  Elizabeth,  I  s'pose  ?  " 

"  Not  yet/'  said  Mrs.  Banks,  who  as  a  matter  of 
fact  had  been  influenced  by  the  proceedings  of  that 
afternoon  to  bring  to  a  head  a  step  she  had  hitherto 
only  vaguely  contemplated. 

Elizabeth,  who  came  down  the  garden  again,  a 
little  later,  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Church,  received 
the  news  stolidly.  A  feeling  of  regret,  that  the 
attention  =?  of  the  devoted  Gibson  must  now  cease 
certainly  occurred  to  her,  but  she  never  thought  of 
contesting  the  arrangements  made  for  her,  and  ac- 
cepted the  situation  with  a  placidity  which  the  more 
ardent  Barber  was  utterly  unable  to  understand. 

"  Fred'll  stand  on  his  'ed  with  joy,"  the  unsophis- 
ticated mariner  declared,  with  enthusiasm. 

"He'll  go  singing  about  the  house/'  declared 
Mrs.  Church. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  65 

Mrs.  Banks  regarded  her  unfavourably. 

"  He's  never  said  much,"  continued  Uncle  Barber, 
in  an  exalted  strain  ;  "  that  ain't  Fred's  way.  He 
takes  arter  me  ;  he's  one  o'  the  quiet  ones,  one  o*  the 
still, deep  waters  what  always  feels  the  most.  When 
I  tell  'im  his  face'll  just  light  up  with  joy." 

"  It'll  be  nice  for  you,  too,"  said  Mrs.  Banks, 
with  a  side  glance  at  the  housekeeper  ;  "  you'll  have 
somebody  to  look  after  you  and  take  an  interest  in 
you,  and  strangers  can't  be  expected  to  do  that  even 
if  they're  nice." 

"  We  shall  have  him  standing  on  his  head,  too," 
said  Mrs.  Church,  with  a  bright  smile ;  "  you're 
turning  everything  upside  down,  Mrs.  Banks." 

"  There's  things  as  wants  altering,"  said  the  old 
lady,  with  emphasis.  *'  There's  few  things  as  I 
don't  see,  ma'am." 

"  I  hope  you'll  live  to  see  a  lot  more,"  said  Mrs. 
Church,  piously. 

"  She'll  live  to  be  ninety,"  said  Captain  Barber, 
heartily. 

'  Oh,  easily!'  said  Mrs.  Church. 

Captain  Barber  regarding  his  old  friend  saw  her 
face  suffused  with  a  wrath  for  which  he  was  utterly 
unable  to  account.  With  a  hazy  idea  that  some- 
thing had  passed  which  he  had  not  heard,  he  caused 


66  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

a  diversion  by  sending  Mrs.  Church  indoors  for  a 
pack  of  cards,  and  solemnly  celebrated  the  occasion 
with  a  game  of  whist,  at  which  Mrs.  Church,  in 
partnership  with  Mrs.  Banks,  either  through  sheer 
wilfulness  or  absence  of  mind,  contrived  to  lose  every 
game. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

As  a  result  of  the  mate's  ill-behaviour  at  the 
theatre,  Captain  Fred  Flower  treated  him  with  an 
air  of  chilly  disdain,  ignoring,  as  far  as  circumstances 
would  permit,  the  fact  that  such  a  person  existed. 
So  far  as  the  social  side  went  the  mate  made  no 
demur,  but  it  was  a  different  matter  when  the  skip- 
per acted  as  though  he  were  not  present  at  the  break- 
fast table,  and  being  chary  of  interfering  with  the 
other's  self-imposed  vow  of  silence,  he  rescued  a 
couple  of  rashers  from  his  plate  and  put  them  on  his 
own.  Also,  in  order  to  put  matters  on  a  more  equal 
footing,  he  drank  three  cups  of  coffee  in  rapid  suc- 
cession, leaving  the  skipper  to  his  own  reflections 
and  an  empty  coffee-pot.  In  this  sociable  fashion 
they  got  through  most  of  the  day,  the  skipper  re- 
fraining  from  speech  until  late  in  the  afternoon, 
when,  both  being  at  work  in  the  hold,  the  mate  let 
a  heavy  case  fall  on  his  foot. 

"I  thought  you'd  get  it,"  he  said,  calmly,  as 
Flower  paused  to  take  breath  ;  "  it  wasn't  my  fault." 

"  Whose  was  it,  then  ?  "  roared  Flower,  who  had 


68  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

got  his  boot  off  and  was  trying  various  tender  exper- 
iments with  his  toe  to  see  whether  it  was  broken  or 
not. 

"  If  you  hadn't  been  holding  your  head  in  the 
air  and  pretending  that  I  wasn't  here,  it  wouldn't 
have  happened,"  said  Fraser,  with  some  heat, 

The  skipper  turned  his  back  on  him,  and  meet- 
ing a  look  of  enquiring  solicitude  from  Joe,  applied 
to  him  for  advice. 

"  What  had  I  better  do  with  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Well,  if  it  was  my  toe,  sir,"  said  Joe  regarding 
it  respectfully,  "  I  should  stick  it  in  a  basin  o'  boil- 
ing water  and  keep  it  there  as  long  as  I  could 
bear  it." 

"You're  a  fool,"  said  the  skipper,  briefly. 
"  What  do  you  think  of  it,  Ben  ?  I  don't  think  it's 
broken." 

The  old  seaman  scratched  his  head.  "  Well,  if  it 
belonged  to  me,"  he  said,  slowly,  "  there's  some 
ointment  down  the  fo'c's'le  which  the  cook  'ad  for 
sore  eyes.  I  should  just  put  some  o'  that  on.  It 
looks  good  stuff." 

The  skipper,  summarising  the  chief  points  in  Ben's 
character,  which,  owing  principally  to  the  poverty 
of  the  English  language,  bore  a  remarkable  likeness 
to  Joe's  and  the  mate's,  took  his  sock  and  boot  in 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  69 

his  hand,  and  gaining  the  deck  limped  painfully  to 
the  cabin. 

The  foot  was  so  painful  after  tea  that  he  could 
hardly  bear  his  slipper  on,  and  he  went  ashore  in  his 
working  clothes  to  the  chemist's,  preparatory  to  fit- 
ting himself  out  for  Liston  Street.  The  chemist,  lean- 
ing over  the  counter,  was  inclined  to  take  a  serious 
view  of  it,  and  shaking  his  head  with  much 
solemnity,  prepared  a  bottle  of  medicine,  a  bottle 
of  lotion  and  a  box  of  ointment. 

"  Let  me  see  it  again  as  soon  as  youVe  finished 
the  medicine,"  he  said,  as  he  handed  the  articles 
over  the  counter. 

Flower  promised,  and  hobbling  towards  the  door 
turned  into  the  street.  Then  the  amiable  air  which 
he  had  worn  in  the  shop  gave  way  to  one  of  un- 
seemly hauteur  as  he  saw  Fraser  hurrying  towards 
him. 

"  Look  out,"  cried  the  latter,  warningly. 

The  skipper  favoured  him  with  a  baleful  stare. 

"  All  right,"  said  the  mate,  angrily,  "  go  your 
own  way,  then.  Don't  come  to  me  when  you  get 
into  trouble,  that's  all." 

Flower  passed  on  his  way  in  silence.  Then  a 
thought  struck  him  and  he  stopped  suddenly. 

"  You  wish  to  speak  to  me  ?  "  he  asked,  stiffly. 


;o  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  No,  I'm  damned  if  I  do,"  said  the  mate,  stick- 
ing  his  hands  into  his  pockets. 

"If  you  wish  to  speak  to  me,"  said  the  other, 
trying  in  vain  to  conceal  a  trace  of  anxiety  in  his 
voice,  "  it's  my  duty  to  listen.  What  were  you 
going  to  say  just  now  ?  " 

The  mate  eyed  him  wrathf  ully,  but  as  the  pathetic 
figure  with  its  wounded  toe  and  cargo  of  remedies 
stood  there  waiting  for  him  to  speak,  he  suddenly 
softened. 

"  Don't  go  back,  old  man,"  he  said,  kindly,  "she's 
aboard." 

Eighteen  pennyworth  of  mixture,  to  be  taken 
thrice  daily  from  tablespoons,  spilled  over  the  curb, 
and  the  skipper,  thrusting  the  other  packets  me- 
chanically into  his  pockets,  disappeared  hurriedly 
around  the  corner. 

"  It's  no  use  finding  fault  with  me,"  said  Fraser, 
quickly,  as  he  stepped  along  beside  him,  "so  don't 
try  it.  They  came  down  into  the  cabin  before  I 
knew  they  were  aboard,  even." 

"They?"  repeated  the  distressed  Flower. 
"Who's  they?" 

"  The  young  woman  that  came  before  and  a  stout 
woman  with  a  little  dark  moustache  and  earrings. 
They're  going  to  wait  until  you  come  back  to  ask 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  71 

you  a  few  questions  about  Mr.  Robinson.  They've 
been  asking  me  a  few.  I've  locked  the  door  of 
your  state-room  and  here's  the  key." 

Flower  pocketed  it  and,  after  a  little  deliberation 
thanked  him. 

"  I  did  the  best  I  could  for  you,"  said  the  other, 
with  a  touch  of  severity.  "  If  I'd  treated  you  as 
some  men  would  have  done,  I  should  have  just  let 
you  walk  straight  into  the  trap." 

Flower  gave  an  apologetic  cough.  "  I've  had  a 
lot  of  worry  lately,  Jack,"  he  said,  humbly ;  "  come 
in  and  have  something.  Perhaps  it  will  clear  my 
head  a  bit." 

"  I  told  'em  you  wouldn't  be  back  till  twelve  at 
least,"  said  the  mate,  as  Flower  rapidly  diagnosed 
his  complaint  and  ordered  whisky,  "  perhaps  not 
then,  and  that  when  you  did  turn  up  you'd  sure  to 
be  the  worse  for  liquor.  The  old  lady  said  she'd 
wait  all  night  for  the  pleasure  of  seeing  your  bonny 
face,  and  as  for  you  being  drunk,  she  said  she  don't 
suppose  there's  a  woman  in  London  that  has  had 
more  experience  with  drunken  men  than  she  has." 

"  Let  this  be  a  warning  to  you,  Jack,"  said  the 
skipper,  solemnly,  as  he  drained  his  glass  and  put 
it  thoughtfully  on  the  counter. 

"Don't   you    trouble    about   me,"  said    Fraserf 


72  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  you've  got  all  you  can  do  to  look  after  yourself. 
I've  come  out  to  look  for  a  policeman ;  at  least, 
that's  what  I  told  them." 

"  All  the  police  in  the  world  couldn't  do  me  any 
good,"  sighed  Flower.  "  Poppy's  got  tickets  for  a 
concert  to-night,  and  I  was  going  with  her.  I  can't 
go  like  this." 

"  Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  enquired  the 
other. 

Flower  shook  his  head  and  pondered.  "  You  go 
back  and  get  rid  of  them  the  best  way  you  can,"  he 
said,  at  length,  "  but  whatever  you  do,  don't  have 
a  scene.  Til  stay  here  till  you  come  and  tell  me 
the  coast  is  clear." 

"  And  suppose  it  don't  clear  ?"  said  Fraser. 

"  Then  I'll  pick  you  up  at  Greenwich  in  the 
morning,"  said  Flower. 

"  And  suppose  they're  still  aboard  ?  "  said  Fraser. 

"  I  won't  suppose  any  such  thing,"  said  the  other, 
hotly  ;  "  if  you  can't  get  rid  of  two  women  between 
now  and  three  in  the  morning,  you're  not  much  of 
a  mate.  If  they  catch  me  I'm  ruined,  and  you'll 
be  responsible  for  it." 

The  mate,  staring  at  him  blankly,  opened  his 
mouth  to  reply,  but  being  utterly  unable  to  think 
of  anything  adequate  to  the  occasion,  took  up  his 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  73 

glass  instead,  and,  drinking  off  the  contents,  turned 
to  the  door.  He  stood  for  a  moment  at  the  thres- 
hold gazing  at  Flower  as  though  he  had  just  dis- 
covered points  about  him  which  had  hitherto 
escaped  his  notice,  and  then  made  his  way  back  to 
the  wharf. 

"  They're  still  down  below,  sir,"  said  Joe,  softly, 
as  he  stepped  aboard,  "  and  making  as  free  and  as 
comfortable  as  though  they're  going  to  stay  a  month." 

Fraser  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  went  below. 
The  appearance  of  the  ladies  amply  confirmed  Joe's 
remark. 

"  Never  can  find  one  when  you  want  him,  can 
you  ?"  said  the  elder  lady,  in  playful  allusion  to  the 
police. 

"  Well,  I  altered  my  mind,"  said  Fraser,  amiably. 
"  I  don't  like  treating  ladies  roughly,  but  if  the 
cap'n  comes  on  board  and  finds  you  here  it'll  be 
bad  for  me,  that's  all." 

"  What  time  do  you  expect  him  ?  "  enquired  Miss 
Tipping. 

"  Not  before  we  sail  at  three  in  the  morning." 
said  the  mate,  glibly ;  "  perhaps  not  then.  I  often 
have  to  take  the  ship  out  without  him.  He's  been 
away  six  weeks  at  a  stretch  before  now." 

"  Well,  we'll  stay  here  till  he  does  come,"  said 


74  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

the  elder  lady.  "  I'll  have  his  cabin,  and  my  step, 
daughter'll  have  to  put  up  with  your  bed." 

"  If  you're  not  gone  by  the  time  we  start,  I  shall 
have  to  have  you  put  off,"  said  Fraser. 

"  Those  of  us  who  live  longest'll  see  the  most," 
said  Mrs.  Tipping,  calmly. 

An  hour  or  two  passed,  the  mate  sitting  smoking 
with  a  philosophy  which  he  hoped  the  waiting 
mariner  at  the  "Admiral  Cochrane  "  would  be  able  to 
imitate.  He  lit  the  lamp  at  last,  and  going  on  deck, 
ordered  the  cook  to  prepare  supper. 

Mother  and  daughter,  with  feelings  of  gratitude, 
against  which  they  fought  strongly,  noticed  that  the 
table  was  laid  for  three,  and  a  little  later,  in  a 
somewhat  awkward  fashion,  they  all  sat  down  to 
the  meal  together. 

"  Very  good  beef,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping,  politely. 

"Very  nice,"  said  her  daughter,  who  was  ex- 
changing glances  with  the  mate.  "  I  suppose 
you're  very  comfortable  here,  Mr.  Fraser  ?  " 

The  mate  sighed.  "  It's  all  right  when  the  old 
man's  away,"  he  said,  deceitfully.  "  He's  got  a 
dreadful  temper." 

"  I  hope  you  didn't  get  into  trouble  through  my 
coming  aboard  the  other  night,"  said  Miss  Tipping, 
softly. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  75 

"  Don't  say  anything  about  it,"  replied  the  mate, 
eyeing  her  admiringly.  "  I'd  do  more  than  that  for 
you,  if  I  could." 

Miss  Tipping,  catching  her  mothers  eye,  bestowed 
upon  her  a  glance  of  complacent  triumph. 

"  You  don't  mind  us  coming  down  here,  do  you  ?  '* 
she  said,languishingly. 

"  I  wish  you'd  live  here,"  said  the  unscrupulous 
Fraser ;  "  but  of  course  I  know  you  only  come  here  to 
try  and  see  that  fellow  Robinson,"  he  added,  gloomily. 

"  I  like  to  see  you,  too,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  like 
you  very  much,  as  a  friend." 

The  mate  in  a  melancholy  voice  thanked  her,  and 
to  the  great  annoyance  of  the  cook,  who  had  received 
strict  orders  from  the  forecastle  to  listen  as  much  as 
he  could,  sat  in  silence  while  the  table  was  cleared. 

"  What  do  you  say  to  a  hand  at  cards?  "  he  said, 
after  the  cook  had  finally  left  the  cabin. 

"Three-handed  cribbage,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping, 
quickly;  "  it's  the  only  game  worth  playing." 

No  objection  being  raised,  the  masterful  lady 
drew  closer  to  the  table,  and  concentrating  energies 
of  no  mean  order  on  the  game,  successfully  played 
hands  of  unvarying  goodness,  aided  by  a  method  of 
pegging  which  might  perhaps  be  best  described  as 
dot  and  carry  one. 


76  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  You  haven't  seen  anything  of  this  Mr.  Robin- 
son since  you  were  here  last,  I  suppose  ? "  said 
Fraser,  noting  with  satisfaction  that  both  ladies 
gave  occasional  uneasy  glances  at  the  clock. 

"  No,  an*  not  likely  to,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping ; 
"  fifteen  two,  fifteen  four,  fifteen  six,  and  a  pair's 
eight." 

"Where's  the  fifteen  six?"  enquired  Fraser, 
glancing  over. 

"  Eight  and  seven,"  said  the  lady,  pitching  the 
cards  with  the  others  and  beginning  to  shuffle  for 
the  next  deal. 

"  It's  very  strange  behaviour,"  said  the  mate ; 
"  Robinson,  I  mean.  Do  you  think  he's  dead  ?  " 

"No,  I  don't,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping,  briefly. 
"  Where's  that  captain  of  yours  ?  " 

Fraser,  whose  anxiety  was  becoming  too  much  for 
his  play,  leaned  over  the  table  as  though  about  to 
speak,  and  then,  apparently  thinking  better  of  it, 
went  on  with  the  game. 

"  Eh  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Tipping,  putting  her  cards  face 
downwards  on  the  table  and  catching  his  eye. 
"Where?" 

"  O,  nowhere,"  said  Fraser,  awkwardly.  "  I  don't 
want  to  be  dragged  into  this,  you  know.  It  isn't 
my  business." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  77 

"If  you  know  where  he  is,  why  can't  you  tell  us  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Tipping,  softly.  "  There's  no  harm  in 
that." 

"What's  the  good?"  enquired  Fraser,  in  a  low 
voice  ;  "'  when  you've  seen  the  old  man  you  won't 
be  any  forwarder— he  wouldn't  tell  you  anything 
even  if  he  knew  it." 

"  Well,  we'd  like  to  see  him,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping, 
after  a  pause. 

"  You  see,  you  put  me  in  a  difficulty,"  said 
Fraser  ;  "  if  the  skipper  doesn't  come  aboard,  you're 
going  with  us,  I  understand?" 

Mrs.  Tipping  nodded.  "  Exactly,"  she  said, 
sharply. 

"  That'll  get  me  into  trouble,  if  anything  will,"  said 
the  mate,  gloomily.  "  On  the  other  kand,  if  I  tell 
you  where  he  is  now,  that'll  get  me  into  trouble,  too," 

He  sat  back  and  drummed  on  the  table  with  his 
fingers.  "  Well,  Til  risk  it,"  he  said,  at  length ; 
"you'll  find  him  at  17,  Beaufort  Street,  Bow." 

The  younger  woman  sprang  excitedly  to  her  feet, 
but  Mrs.  Tipping,  eyeing  the  young  man  with  a 
pair  of  shrewd,  small  eyes,  kept  her  seat. 

"And  while  we're  going,  how  do  we  know  the 
capt'n  won't  come  back  and  go  off  with  the  ship  ?  " 
she  enquired. 


78  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

Fraser  hesitated.  "  Well,  I'll  come  with  you,  if 
you  like,"  he  said,  slowly. 

"  And  suppose  they  go  away  and  leave  you,  be- 
hind ?  "  objected  Mrs.  Tipping. 

"Oh,  well,  you'd  better  stay  then," said  the  mate, 
wearily,  "  unless  we  take  a  couple  of  the  hands  with 
us.  How  would  that  suit  you  ?  They  can't  sail 
with  half  a  crew." 

Mrs.  Tipping,  who  was  by  no  means  as  anxious 
for  a  sea  voyage  as  she  tried  to  make  out,  carefully 
pondered  the  situation.  "  I'm  going  to  take  an 
arm  of  each  of  'em  and  Matilda'll  take  yours,"  she 
said,  at  length. 

"As  you  please,"  said  Fraser,  and  in  this  way  the 
procession  actually  started  up  the  wharf,  and  look- 
ing back  indignantly  over  its  shoulder  saw  the 
watchman  and  Ben  giving  way  to  the  most  un- 
seemly mirth,  while  the  cook  capered  joyously  be- 
hind them.  A  belated  cab  was  passing  the  gate  as 
they  reached  it,  and  in  response  to  the  mate's  hail 
pulled  sharply  up. 

Mrs.  Tipping,  pushing  her  captives  in  first, 
stepped  heavily  into  the  cab  followed  by  her 
daughter,  while  the  mate,  after  a  brief  discussion, 
clambered  onto  the  box. 

"  Go  on,"  he  said,  nodding. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  79 

"  Wot,  ain't  the  rest  of  you  comin'  ?  "  enquired 
the  cabman,  eyeing  the  crowd  at  the  gate,  in 
pained  surprise. 

"No.  17,  Beaufort  Street,  Bow,"  said  Mrs.  Tip- 
ping, distinctly,  as  she  put  her  head  out  of  the 
window. 

"  You  could  sit  on  'er  lap,"  continued  the  cab- 
man, appealingly. 

No  reply  being  vouchsafed  to  this  suggestion,  he 
wrapped  himself  up  in  various  rugs  and  then  sat 
down  suddenly  before  they  could  unwind  them- 
selves. Then,  with  a  compassionate  "  click  "  to  his 
horse,  started  up  the  road.  Except  for  a  few 
chance  wayfarers  and  an  occasional  coffee-stall,  the 
main  streets  were  deserted,  but  they  were  noisy 
compared  with  Beaufort  Street.  Every  house  was 
in  absolute  darkness  as  the  cab,  with  instinctive  def- 
erence to  slumber,  crawled  slowly  up  and  down 
looking  for  No.  17. 

It  stopped  at  last,  and  the  mate,  springing  down, 
opened  the  door,  and  handing  out  the  ladies,  led 
the  way  up  a  flight  of  steps  to  the  street  door. 

"  Perhaps  you  won't  mind  knocking,"  he  said  to 
Mrs.  Tipping,  "and  don't  forget  to  tell  the  cap'n 
I've  done  this  to  oblige  you  because  you  insisted 
upon  it." 


8o  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

Mrs.  Tipping,  seizing  the  knocker,  knocked  loud 
and  long,  and  after  a  short  interval  repeated  the 
performance.  Somebody  was  heard  stirring  up- 
stairs,  and  a  deep  voice  cried  out  that  it  was  com- 
ing, and  peremptorily  requested  them  to  cease 
knocking. 

"  That's  not  Flower's  voice,*'  said  Fraser. 

"  Not  loud  enough,"  said  Miss  Tipping. 

The  bolts  were  drawn  back  loudly  and  the  chain 
grated ;  then  the  door  was  flung  open,  and  a  big, 
red-whiskered  man,  blinking  behind  a  candle,  gruffly 
enquired  what  they  meant  by  it. 

"  Come  inside/'  said  Mrs.  Tipping  to  her  following. 

"Ain't  you  come  to  the  wrong  house?"  de- 
manded the  red-whiskered  man,  borne  slowly  back 
by  numbers. 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping,  suavely  ; 
"  I  want  to  see  Captain  Flower." 

"  Well,  you've  come  to  the  wrong  house,"  said 
the  red-whiskered  man,  shortly,  "  there's  no  such 
name  here." 

"  Think,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping. 

The  red-whiskered  man  waved  the  candle  to  and 
fro  until  the  passage  was  flecked  with  tallow. 

"  Go  away  directly,"  he  roared  ;  "  how  dare  you 
come  disturbing  people  like  this?" 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  81 

"You  may  just  as  well  be  pleasant  over  it,"  said 
Mrs.  Tipping,  severely ;  "  because  we  sha'n't  go 
away  until  we  have  seen  him.  After  all,  it's  got 
nothing  to  do  with  you." 

"  We  don't  want  anything  to  say  to  you,** 
affirmed  her  daughter. 

"  Will — you — get — out — of — my — house  ?  "     de- 
manded the  owner,  wildly. 

"  When  we've  seen  Capt'n  Flower,"  said  Mrs. 
Tipping,  calmly,  "  and  not  a  moment  before.  We 
don't  mind  your  getting  in  a  temper,  not  a  bit. 
You  can't  frighten  us." 

The  frenzied  and  reckless  reply  of  the  red-whis- 
kered man  was  drowned  in  the  violent  slamming  of 
the  street-door,  and  he  found  himself  alone  with 
the  ladies.  There  was  a  yell  of  triumph  outside, 
and  the  sounds  of  a  hurried  scramble  down  the 
steps.  Mrs.  Tipping,  fumbling  wildly  at  the  catch 
of  the  door,  opened  it  just  in  time  to  ,see  the  cab- 
man,  in  reply  to  the  urgent  entreaties  of  the  mate, 
frantically  lashing  his  horse  up  the  road. 

"  So  far,  so  good,"  murmured  the  mate,  as  he 
glanced  over  his  shoulder  at  the  little  group  posing 
on  the  steps.  "  I've  done  the  best  I  could,  but  I 
suppose  there'll  be  a  row." 

The  watchman,  with  the  remainder  of  the  crew, 


82  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

in  various  attitudes  of  expectant  curiosity,  were 
waiting  to  receive  them  at  the  wharf.  A  curiosity 
which  increased  in  intensity  as  the  mate,  slamming 
the  gate,  put  the  big  bar  across  and  turned  to  the 
watchman. 

"  Don't  open  that  to  anybody  till  we're  off,"  he 
said,  sharply.  "Cap'n  Flower  has  not  turned  up 
yet,  I  suppose?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Ben. 

They  went  aboard  the  schooner  again,  and  the 
mate,  remaining  on  deck,  listened  anxiously  for  the 
return  of  the  redoubtable  Mrs.  Tipping,  occasionally 
glancing  over  the  side  in  expectation  of  being 
boarded  from  the  neighbouring  stairs ;  but  with  the 
exception  of  a  false  alarm  caused  by  two  maddened 
seamen  unable  to  obtain  admittance,  and  preferring 
insulting  charges  of  somnolency  against  the  watch- 
man, the  time  passed  quietly  until  high  water. 
With  the  schooner  in  midstream  slowly  picking  her 
way  through  the  traffic,  any  twinges  of  remorse 
that  he  might  have  had  for  the  way  he  had  treated 
two  helpless  women  left  him,  and  he  began  to  feel 
with  his  absent  commander  some  of  the  charm  which 
springs  from  successful  wrong-doing. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

HE  brought  up  off  Greenwich  in  the  cold  grey  of 
the  breaking  day.  Craft  of  all  shapes  and  sizes 
were  passing  up  and  down,  but  he  looked  in  vain 
for  any  sign  of  the  skipper.  It  was  galling  to  him 
as  a  seaman  to  stay  there  with  the  wind  blowing 
freshly  down  the  river ;  but  over  an  hour  elapsed 
before  a  yell  from  Tim,  who  was  leaning  over  the 
bows,  called  his  attention  to  a  waterman's  skiff,  in 
the  stern  of  which  sat  a  passenger  of  somewhat  de- 
jected appearance.  He  had  the  air  of  a  man  who 
had  been  up  all  night,  and  in  place  of  returning 
the  hearty  and  significant  greeting  of  the  mate,  sat 
down  in  an  exhausted  fashion  on  the  cabin  sky- 
light, and  eyed  him  in  stony  silence  until  they  were 
under  way  again. 

"  Well,"  he  said  at  length,  ungraciously. 

Chilled  by  his  manner,  Eraser,  in  place  of  the 
dramatic  fashion  in  which  he  had  intended  to  relate 
the  events  of  the  preceding  night,  told  him  in  a 
few  curt  sentences  what  had  occurred.  "  And  you 
can  finish  this  business  for  yourself,"  he  concluded, 
warmly  ;  "  I've  had  enough  of  it." 


84  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  You've  made  a  pretty  mess  of  it,"  groaned  the 
other;  "  there'll  be  a  fine  set-out  now.  Why 
couldn't  you  coax  'em  away?  That's  what  I 
wanted  you  to  do.  That's  what  I  told  you  to  do." 

"  Well,  you'll  have  plenty  of  opportunities  of 
coaxing  yourself  so  far  as  I  can  see,"  retorted 
Fraser,  grimly.  "  Then  you'll  see  how  it  works. 
It  was  the  only  way  of  getting  rid  of  them.*' 

"You  ought  to  have  sent  round  to  me  and  let 
me  know  what  you  were  doing,"  said  Flower.  "  I 
sat  in  that  blamed  pub  till  they  turned  me  out  at 
twelve,  expecting  you  every  minute.  I'd  only 
threepence  left  by  then,  and  I  crossed  the  water 
with  that,  and  then  I  had  to  shuffle  along  to  Green- 
wich  as  best  I  could  with  a  bad  foot.  What'll  be 
the  end  of  it  all,  I  don't  know." 

"  Well,  you're  all  right  at  present,"  said  Fraser, 
glancing  round ;  "  rather  different  to  what  you'd 
have  been  if  those  two  women  had  come  to  Ipswich 
and  seen  Cap'n  Barber." 

The  other  sat  for  a  long  time  in  thought.  "  I'll 
lay  up  for  a  few  weeks  with  this  foot,"  he  said, 
slowly,  "  and  you'll  have  to  tell  the  Tipping  family 
that  I've  changed  into  another  trade.  What  with 
the  worry  I've  had  lately,  I  shall  be  glad  of  a  rest." 

He  made  his  way  below,  and   turning   in    slept 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  85 

soundly  after  his  fatigue  until  the  cook  aroused 
him  a  few  hours  later  with  the  information  that 
breakfast  was  ready. 

A  wash  and  a  change,  together  with  a  good 
breakfast,  effected  as  much  change  in  his  spirits  as 
in  his  appearance.  Refreshed  in  mind  and  body 
he  slowly  paced  the  deck,  his  chest  expanding  as 
he  sniffed  the  fresh  air,  and  his  soul,  encouraged 
by  the  dangers  he  had  already  passed  through, 
bracing  itself  for  fresh  encounters. 

"  I  'ope  the  foot  is  goin*  on  well,  sir,"  said  Tim, 
breaking  in  upon  his  meditations,  respectfully. 

"Much  easier  this  morning,"  said  the  skipper, 
amiably. 

Tim,  who  was  lending  the  cook  a  hand,  went 
back  into  the  galley  to  ponder.  As  a  result  of  a 
heated  debate  in  the  fo'c's'le,  where  the  last  night's 
proceedings  and  the  mysterious  appearance  of  the 
skipper  off  Greenwich  had  caused  a  great  sensation, 
they  had  drawn  lots  to  decide  who  was  to  bell  the 
cat,  and  Tim  had  won  or  lost  according  as  the 
subject  might  be  viewed. 

"  You  don't  want  to  walk  about  on  it  much,  sir/* 
he  said,  thrusting  his  head  out  again. 

The  skipper  nodded. 

"  I    was   alarmed   last    night,'*  said    Tim.     "  We 


86  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

was  all  alarmed,"  he  added,  hastily,  in  order  that  the 
others  might  stand  in  with  the  risk,  "  thinking  that 
pYaps  you'd  walked  too  far  and  couldn't  get  back." 

The  master  of  the  Foam  looked  at  him,  but  made 
no  reply,  and  Tim's  head  was  slowly  withdrawn. 
The  crew,  who  had  been  gazing  over  the  side  with 
their  ears  at  the  utmost  tension,  gave  him  five 
minutes'  grace  and  then,  the  skipper  having  gone 
aft  again,  walked  up  to  the  galley. 

"  I've  done  all  I  could,"  said  the  wretched  youth. 

"  Done  all  ye  could  ?  "  said  Joe,  derisively,  "  why 
you  ain't  done  nothin'  yet." 

"  I  can't  say  anything  more,"  said  Tim.  "  I 
dassent.  I  ain't  got  your  pluck,  Joe." 

"Pluck  be  damned!"  said  the  seaman,  fiercely; 
"  why  there  was  a  chap  I  knew  once,  shipwrecked 
he  was,  and  had  to  take  to  the  boats.  When  the 
grub  give  out  they  drew  lots  to  see  who  should  be 
killed  and  eaten.  He  lost.  Did  'e  back  out  of  it  ? 
Not  a  bit  of  it ;  *e  was  a  man,  an*  'e  shook  'ands 
with  'em  afore  they  ate  'im  and  wished  'em  luck." 

"Well,  you  can  kill  and  eat  me  if  that's  what  you 
want,"  said  Tim,  desperately.  "  I'd  sooner  'ave 
that." 

"  Mind  you,"  said  Joe,  "  till  you've  arsked  them 
questions  and  been  answered  satisfactorily — none 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  87 

of  us'll  'ave  anything  to  do  with  you,  besides  which 
I'll  give  you  such  a  licking  as  you've  never  'ad  be- 
fore." 

He  strolled  off  with  Ben  and  the  cook,  as  the 
skipper  came  towards  them  again,  and  sat  down  in 
the  bows.  Tim,  sore  afraid  of  his  shipmates'  con. 
tempt,  tried  again. 

"  I  wanted  to  ask  your  pardon  in  case  I  done 
wrong  last  night,  sir,"  he  said,  humbly. 

"  All  right,  it's  granted,"  replied  the  other,  walk- 
ing  away. 

Tim  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  then  lowering 
them,  looked  even  more  beseechingly  at  his  com- 
rades. 

"  Go  on,"  said  Ben,  shaping  the  words  only  with 
his  mouth. 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,  whether  you  know  what  I  was 
alloodin'  to  just  now,"  said  Tim,  in  trembling 
accents,  as  the  skipper  came  within  earshot  again. 
"  I'm  a-ref erring  to  a  cab  ride." 

"  And  I  told  you  that  I've  forgiven  you,"  said 
Flower,  sternly,  "forgiven  you  freely — all  of  you." 

"  It's  a  relief  to  my  mind,  sir,"  faltered  the  youth, 
staring. 

"  Don't  mix  yourself   up  in  my  business   again, 


88  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

that's  all,"  said  the  skipper ;  "  you  mightn't  get  off 
so  easy  next  time." 

"  It's  been  worrying  me  ever  since,  sir,"  persisted 
Tim,  who  was  half  fainting.  "  I've  been  wondering 
whether  I  ought  to  have  answered  them  ladies' 
questions,  and  told  'em  what  I  did  tell  'em." 

The  skipper  swung  round  hastily  and  confronted 
him.  "Told  them?"  he  stuttered,  "told  them 
what?" 

"  I  'ardly  remember,  sir,"  said  Tim,  alarmed  at 
his  manner.  "  Wot  with  the  suddenness  o'  the  thing, 
an'  the  luckshury  o*  riding  in  a  cab,  my  'ead  was  in 
a  whirl." 

"  What  did  they  ask  you  ?  "  demanded  the  skipper. 

"  They  asked  me  what  Cap'n  Flower  was  like  an" 
where  'e  lived,"  said  Tim,  "  an'  they  asked  me 
whether  I  knew  a  Mr.  Robinson." 

Captain  Flower,  his  eyes  blazing,  waited. 

"  I  said  I  'adn't  got  the  pleasure  o'  Mr.  Robin- 
son's  acquaintance,"  said  Tim,  with  a  grand  air.  "I 
was  just  goin'  to  tell  'em  about  you  when  Joe  'ere 
gave  me  a  pinch." 

"  Well  ?  "  enquired  the  skipper,  stamping  with  in% 
patience. 

"  I  pinched  'im  back  agin,"  said  Tim,  smiling  ten* 
derly  at  the  reminiscence. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  89 

"Tim's  a  fool,  sir,"  said  Joe,  suddenly,  as  the 
overwrought  skipper  made  a  move  towards  the  gal- 
ley. "  'E  didn't  seem  to  know  wot  'e  was  a  sayin* 
of,  so  I  up  and  told  'em  all  about  you." 

"You  did,  did  you?  Damn  you,"  said  Flower, 
bitterly. 

"  In  answer  to  their  questions,  sir,"  said  Joe,  "  I 
told  'em  you  was  a  bald-headed  chap,  marked  with 
the  small-pox,  and  I  said  when  you  was  at  'omef 
which  was  seldom,  you  lived  at  Aberdeen." 

The  skipper  stepped  towards  him  and  laid  his 
hand  affectionately  on  his  shoulder.  "You  ought 
to  have  been  an  admiral,  Joe,"  he  said,  gratefully, 
without  intending  any  slur  on  a  noble  profession. 

"  I  also  told  George,  the  watchman,  to  tell  *em  the 
same  thing,  if  they  came  round  again  worrying," 
said  Joe,  proudly. 

The  skipper  patted  him  on  the  shoulder  again. 

"  One  o' these  days,  Joe,"  he  remarked,"  you  shall 
know  all  about  this  little  affair;  for  the  present  it's 
enough  to  tell  you  that  a  certain  unfortunate  young 
female  has  took  a  fancy  to  a  friend  o*  mine  named 
Robinson,  but  it's  very  important,  for  Robinson's 
sake,  that  she  shouldn't  see  me  or  get  to  know  any- 
thing about  me.  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Perfectly,"  said  Joe,  sagely. 


90  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

His  countenance  was  calm  and  composed,  but  the 
cook's  forehead  had  wrinkled  itself  into  his  hair  in 
a  strong  brain  effort,  while  Ben  was  looking  for  light 
on  the  deck,  and  not  finding  it.  Flower,  as  a  sign 
that  the  conversation  was  now  ended,  walked  aft 
again,  and  taking  the  wheel  from  the  mate,  thought- 
fully suggested  that  he  should  go  below  and  turn 
in  for  five  minutes. 

"  I'll  get  through  this  all  right, after  all,"  he  said, 
comfortably.  "  I'll  lay  up  at  Seabridge  for  a  week 
or  two,  and  after  that  I'll  get  off  the  schooner  at 
Greenwich  for  a  bit  and  let  you  take  her  up  to  Lon- 
don. Then  I'll  write  a  letter  in  the  name  of 
Robinson  and  send  it  to  a  man  I  know  in  New  York 
to  post  from  there  to  Miss  Tipping." 

His  spirits  rose  and  he  slapped  Fraser  heartily 
on  the  back.  "That  disposes  of  one,"  he  said, 
cheerily.  "  Lor',  in  years  to  come  how  I  shall  look 
back  and  laugh  over  all  this  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  it'll  be  some  time  before  you  do 
any  laughing  to  speak  of,"  said  Fraser. 

"Ah,  you  always  look  on  the  dark  side  of 
things,"  said  Flower,  briskly. 

"  Of  course,  as  things  are,  you're  going  to  marry 
Miss  Banks,"  said  Fraser,  slowly. 

"No,  I'm  not,"  said   the  other,  cheerfully;  "it 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  91 

strikes  me  there 's  plenty  of  time  before  that  will 
come  to  a  head,  and  that  gives  me  time  to  turn 
round.  I  don't  think  she's  any  more  anxious  for  it 
than  I  am0" 

"  But  suppose  it  does  come  to  a  head,"  persisted 
Fraser,  "  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  shall  find  a  way  out  of  it,"  said  the  skipper, 
confidently.  "  Meantime,  just  as  an  exercise  for 
your  wits,  you  might  try  and  puzzle  out  what 
would  be  the  best  thing  to  do  in  such  a  case." 

His  good  spirits  lasted  all  the  way  to  Seabridge, 
and,  the  schooner  berthed,  he  went  cheerfully  off 
home.  It  was  early  afternoon  when  he  arrived, 
and,  Captain  Barber  being  out,  he  had  a  comfort- 
able tete  ti  tete  with  Mrs.  Church,  in  which  he  was 
able  to  dilate  pretty  largely  upon  the  injury  to  his 
foot.  Captain  Barber  did  not  return  until  the  tea 
was  set,  and  then  shaking  hands  with  his  nephew, 
took  a  seat  opposite,  and  in  a  manner  more  than 
unusually  boisterous,  kept  up  a  long  conversation. 

It  was  a  matter  of  surprise  to  Flower  that, 
though  the  talk  was  by  no  means  of  a  sorrowful 
nature,  Mrs.  Church  on  three  separate  occasions 
rose  from  the  table  and  left  the  room  with  her 
handkerchief  to  her  eyes.  At  such  times  his 
uncle's  ideas  forsook  him,  and  he  broke  off  not 


92  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT, 

only  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence,  but  even  in  the 
middle  of  a  word.  At  the  third  time  Flower 
caught  his  eye,  and  with  a  dumb  jerk  of  his  head 
toward  the  door  enquired  what  it  all  meant, 

"  Tell  you  presently/*  said  his  uncle,  in  a 
frightened  whisper,  "  Hush  \  Don't  take  no 
notice  of  it.  Not  a  word." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  persisted  Flower. 

Captain  Barber  gave  a  hurried  glance  towards 
the  door  and  then  leaned  over  the  table0  "  Broken 
'art,'*  he  whispered,  sorrowfully. 

Flower  whistled,  and,  full  of  the  visions  which 
this  communication  opened  up,  neglected  to  join  in 
the  artificial  mirth  which  his  uncle  was  endeavour- 
ing to  provoke  upon  the  housekeeper's  return. 
Finally  he  worked  up  a  little  mirth  on  his  own 
account,  and  after  glancing  from  his  uncle  to  the 
housekeeper,  and  from  the  housekeeper  back  to  his 
uncle  again,  smothered  his  face  in  his  handkerchief 
and  rushed  from  the  room. 

"  Bit  on  a  bad  tooth,"  he  said,  untruthfully, 
when  he  came  back. 

Captain  Barber  eyed  him  fiercely,  but  Mrs. 
Church  regarded  him  with  compassionate  interest, 
and,  having  got  the  conversation  upon  such  a  safe 
subject,  kept  it  there  until  the  meal  was  finished. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  93 

"  What's  it  all  about  ?  "  enquired  Flower,  as,  tea 
finished,  Captain  Barber  carried  his  chair  to  the 
extreme  end  of  the  garden  and  beckoned  his 
nephew  to  do  likewise. 

"  You're  the  cause  of  it,"  said  Captain  Barber, 
severely. 

"  Me?"  said  Flower,  in  surprise. 

"  You  know  that  little  plan  I  told  you  of  when 
you  was  down  here  ?  "  said  the  other. 

His  nephew  nodded. 

"  It  came  off,"  groaned  Captain  Barber.  "  I've 
got  news  for  you  as'll  make  you  dance  for  joy." 

"  I've  got  a  bad  foot,"  said  Flower,  paling. 

"  Never  mind  about  your  foot,"  said  his  uncle,  re« 
garding  him  fixedly.  "Your  banns  are  up." 

"  Up !     Up  where  ?  "     gasped  Flower. 

"Why — in  the  church,"  said  the  other,  staring 
at  him  ;  "  where  do  you  think  ?  I  got  the  old  lady's 
consent  day  before  yesterday,  and  had  'em  put  up 
at  once." 

"  Is  she  dead,  then?"  enquired  his  nephew,  in  a 
voice  the  hollowness  of  which  befitted  the  ques- 
tion. 

"  How  the  devil  could  she  be?"  returned  his 
uncle,  staring  at  him. 

"No,  I  didn't  think  of  that,"  said  Flower;  "of 


94  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

course,  she  couldn't  give  her  consent,  could  she — 
not  if  she  was  dead,  I  mean." 

Captain  Barber  drew  his  chair  back  and  looked 
at  him.  "  His  joy  has  turned  his  brain,"  he  said, 
with  conviction. 

"  No,  it's  my  foot,"  said  Flower,  rallying.  "I've 
had  no  sleep  with  it.  I'm  delighted  !  Delighted  ! 
After  all  these  years." 

"You  owe  it  to  me,"  said  his  uncle,  with  a  satis- 
fied air.  "  I  generally  see  my  way  clear  to  what  I 
want,  and  generally  get  it,  too.  I've  played  Mrs. 
Banks  and  Mrs.  Church  agin  one  another  without 
their  knowing  it.  Both  'elpless  in  my  hands,  they 
was." 

"But  what's  the  matter  with  Mrs.  Church?" 
said  his  depressed  nephew. 

"  Oh,  that's  the  worst  of  it,"  said  Uncle  Barber, 
shaking  his  head.  "While  I  was  in  play, that  pore 
woman  must  have  thought  I  was  in  earnest.  She 
don't  say  nothing.  Not  a  word,  and  the  efforts  she 
makes  to  control  her  feelings  is  noble." 

"  Have  you  told  her  she  has  got  to  go  then  ?  " 
enquired  Flower. 

Captain  Barber  shook  his  head.  "Mrs.  Banks 
saved  me  that  trouble,"  he  said,  grimly. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  95 

"  But  she  can't  take  notice  from  Mrs.  Banks," 
said  Flower,  "  it'll  have  to  come  from  you." 

"  All  in  good  time,"  said  Captain  Barber,  wiping 
his  face.  "  As  I've  done  all  this  for  you,  I  was 
going  to  let  you  tell  her," 

"  Me  !  "  said  Flower,  with  emphasis. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Captain  Barber,  with  more  em- 
phasis  still.  "Just  get  her  to  yourself  on  the  quiet 
and  allude  to  it  casual.  Then  after  that  bring  the 
subject  up  when  I'm  in  the  room.  As  it's  to  make 
room  for  you  and  your  wife,  you  might  fix  the 
date  for  'er  to  go.  That'll  be  the  best  way  to  do 
it." 

"  It  seems  to  me  it  is  rather  hard  on  her,"  said 
his  nephew,  compassionately ;  "  perhaps  we  had 
better  wait  a  little  longer." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Captain  Barber,  sharply  ; 
"  don't  I  tell  you  your  banns  are  up.  You're  to  be 
asked  in  church  first  time  next  Sunday.  You'll 
both  live  with  me  as  agreed,  and  I'm  going  to  make 
over  three  o'  the  cottages  to  you  and  a  half-share 
in  the  ship.  The  rest  you'll  have  to  wait  for. 
Why  don't  you  look  cheerful  ?  You  ought  to." 

"  I'm  cheerful  enough,"  said  Flower,  recovering 
himself.  "  I'm  thinking  of  you." 

"Me?  "said  his  uncle. 


96  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  You  and  Mrs.  Church,"  said  his  nephew ,  "  So 
far  as  I  can  see, you've  committed  yourself." 

"  I  can  manage,"  said  Uncle  Barber.  "  I've  al- 
ways, been  master  in  my  own  house.  Now  you'd 
better  step  round  and  see  the  bride  that  is  to  be." 

"  Well,  you  be  careful,"  said  his  nephew,  warn* 
ingly. 

"  I'm  coming,  too,"  said  Captain  Barber,  with 
some  haste ;  "  there's  no  need  to  stay  and  wait  for 
trouble.  When  you  go  into  the  house,  come  back 
as  though  you'd  forgotten  something,  and  sing  out 
to  me  that  you  want  me  to  come  too — hard  enough 
jfpr  'er  £9  bear,  mind." 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

THE  bewildered  master  of  the  Foam  spent  the  re- 
rnainder  of  the  time  at  Seabridge  in  a  species  of 
waking  nightmare. 

A  grey-haired  dressmaker  and  a  small  apprentice 
sat  in  the  Banks'  best  parlour,  and  from  a  chaos  of 
brown  paper  patterns  stuck  over  with  pins  a  silk 
dress  of  surpassing  beauty  began  slowly  to  emerge. 
As  a  great  concession  Flower  was  allowed  to  feel 
the  material,  and  even  to  rub  it  between  his  finger 
and  thumb  in  imitation  of  Captain  Barber,  who  was 
so  prone  to  the  exercise  that  a  small  piece  was  cut 
for  his  especial  delectation.  A  colour  of  unwonted 
softness  glowed  in  the  cheek  of  Elizabeth  and  an 
air  of  engaging  timidity  tempered  her  interview 
with  Flower,  who  had  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  much 
friendly  criticism  on  the  part  of  his  fair  neighbours. 

Up  to  the  time  of  sailing  for  London  again  the 
allusion  to  Mrs.  Church's  departure,  desired  by  Cap- 
tain Barber,  had  not  been  made  by  the  younger 
man.  The  housekeeper  was  still  in  possession,  a-nd 
shook  hands  with  him  at  the  front  door  as  he 
limped  slowly  off  with  Miss  Banks  and  his  uncle  to 


98  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

go  down  to  the  schooner.  His  foot  was  still  very 
bad,  so  bad  that  he  stumbled  three  times  on  the 
way  to  the  quay  despite  the  assistance  afforded  by 
the  arm  of  his  betrothed. 

"  Seems  to  be  no  power  in  it,"  he  said  smiling 
faintly ;  "  but  I  daresay  it'll  be  all  right  by  the  time 
I  get  back." 

He  shook  hands  with  Captain  Barber  and,  as  a 
tribute  to  conventionality,  kissed  Miss  Banks. 
The  last  the  two  saw  of  him,  he  was  standing  at  the 
wheel  waving  his  handkerchief.  They  waved  their 
own  in  return,  and  as  the  Foam  drew  rapidly  away 
gave  a  final  farewell  and  departed. 

"  What's  the  game  with  the  foot  ?  "  enquired  the 
mate,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Tell  you  by-and-by,"  said  the  skipper ;  "  it's  far 
from  well,  but  even  if  it  wasn't  I  should  pretend  it 
was  bad.  I  suppose  that  doesn't  suggest  anything 
to  you?" 

The  mate  shook  his  head. 

"  Can  you  see  any  way  out  of  it?  "  enquired  the 
other.  "What  would  you  do  if  you  were  in  my 
place?" 

"Marry  the  girl  I  wanted  to  marry,"  said  the 
mate,  sturdily,  "and  not  trouble  about  anything 
else." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  99 

"  And  lose  thirteen  cottages  and  this  ship  and  my 
berth  in  the  bargain,"  said  the  skipper.  "  Now  you 
try  and  think  of  some  other  way,  and  if  you  haven't 
thought  of  it  by  dinner-time,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'm 
going  to  do." 

No  other  scheme  having  suggested  itself  to  the 
mate  by  the  time  that  meal  arrived,  he  prepared  to 
play  the  part  of  listener.  The  skipper,  after  care- 
fully closing  both  the  door  and  the  skylight,  pre- 
pared to  speak. 

"  I'm  in  a  desperate  fix,  Jack,  that  you'll  admit," 
he  said,  by  way  of  preparation. 

The  mate  cordially  agreed  with  him. 

"  There's  Poppy  down  at  Poplar,  Matilda  at  Chel- 
sea, and  Elizabeth  at  Seabridge,"  continued  Flower, 
indicating  various  points  ®n  the  table  with  his 
finger  as  he  spoke.  "  Some  men  would  give  up  in 
despair,  but  I've  thought  of  a  way  out  of  it.  I've 
never  got  into  a  corner  I  couldn't  get  out  of  yet." 

"  You  want  a  little  help  though  sometimes,"  said 
Fraser. 

"  All  part  of  my  plans,"  rejoined  Flower,  airily. 
"  If  it  hadn't  been  for  my  uncle's  interference  I 
should  have  been  all  right.  A  man's  no  business 
to  be  so  officious.  As  it  is,  I've  got  to  do  some- 
thing decided." 


oo  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  If  I  were  you,"  interrupted  Fraser,  "  I  should 
go  to  Captain  Barber  and  tell  him  straight  and 
plain  how  the  thing  stands.  You  needn't  mention 
Anything  about  Miss  Tipping.  Tell  him  about  the 
other,  and  that  you  intend  to  marry  her.  It'll  be 
best  in  the  long  run,  and  fairer  to  Miss  Tyrell,  too." 

"You  don't  know  my  uncle  as  well  as  I  do,'*  re- 
torted the  skipper.  "  He's  as  obstinate  an  old  fool 
as  ever  breathed.  If  I  did  as  you  say  I  should  lose 
everything.  Now,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'm  going  to 
do  : — To-night,  during  your  watch,  I  shall  come  up 
on  deck  and  stand  on  the  side  of  the  ship  to  look 
at  something  in  the  water,  when  I  shall  suddenly 
hear  a  shout." 

The  mate,  who  had  a  piece  of  dumpling  on  his 
fork,  half-way  to  his  mouth,  put  it  down  again  and 
regarded  him  open-mouthed. 

"  My  foot,"  continued  the  skipper,  in  surprisingly 
even  tones,  answering  his  subject,  "  will  then  give 
way  and  I  shall  fall  overboard." 

The  mate  was  about  to  speak,  but  the  skipper, 
gazing  in  a  rapt  manner  before  him,  waved  him 
into  silence. 

"You  will  alarm  the  crew  and  pitch  a  life-belt 
overboard,"  he  continued;  "you  will  then  back 
and  lower  the  boat." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT,  101 

"You'd  better  take  the  lifebelt  with  you,  hadn't 
you  ?  "  enquired  the  mate,  anxiously. 

"  I  shall  be  picked  up  by  a  Norwegian  barque, 
bound  for  China,"  continued  the  skipper,  ignoring 
the  interruption ;  "  I  shall  be  away  at  least  six 
months,  perhaps  more,  according  as  things  turn 
out." 

The  mate  pushed  his  scarcely  tasted  dinner  from 
him,  and  got  up  from  the  table.  It  was  quite  evi- 
dent to  him  that  the  skipper's  love  affairs  had 
turned  his  brain. 

"  By  the  time  I  get  back,  Matilda'll  have  ceased 
from  troubling,  anyway,"  said  the  skipper,  "  and  I 
have  strong  hopes  that  Elizabeth'll  take  Gibson. 
I  shall  stay  away  long  enough  to  give  her  a  fair 
chance,  anyway." 

"  But  s'pose  you  get  drowned  before  anything 
can  pick  you  up  1 "  suggested  the  mate,  feebly. 

"  Drowned  ?  "  repeated  the  skipper.  "  Why,  you 
didn't  think  I  was  really  going  overboard,  did  you  ? 
I  shall  be  locked  up  in  my  state-room." 

The  mate's  brow  cleared  and  then  darkened  again, 
suddenly.  "  I  see,  some  more  lies  for  me  to  tell,  I 
suppose,"  he  said,  angrily. 

"After  you've  raised  the  alarm  and  failed  to  re- 
cover the  body,"  said  the  skipper,  with  relish, 


102  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  you'll  lock  my  door  and  put  the  key  in  your 
pocket.  That  would  be  the  proper  thing  to  do  if  I 
really  did  go  overboard,  you  know,  and  when  we 
get  to  London  I'll  just  slip  quietly  ashore." 

The  mate  came  back  to  his  dinner  and  finished  it 
in  silence,  while  the  skipper  kept  up  a  rambling 
fire  of  instructions  for  his  future  guidance. 

."  And  what  about  Miss  Tyrell?"  said  the  mate, 
at  length.  "  Is  she  to  know  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Flower,  sharply.  "  I 
wouldn't  have  her  know  for  anything.  You're  the 
only  person  to  know,  Jack.  You'll  have  to  break 
the  news  to  'em  all,  and  mind  you  do  it  gently,  so 
as  not  to  cause  more  grief  than  you  can  help." 

"  I  won't  do  it  at  all,"  said  the  mate. 

"  Yes,  you  will,"  said  Flower,  "  and  if  Matilda  or 
her  mother  come  down  again,  show  it  to  'em  in 
the  paper.  Then  they'll  know  it'll  be  no  good 
worrying  Cap'n  Flower  again.  If  they  see  it  in 
the  paper  they'll  know  it's  true, -it's  sure  to  be  in 
the  local  papers,  and  in  the  London  ones,  too,  very 
likely.  I  should  think  it  would ;  the  master  of  a 
vessel!" 

Fraser  being  in  no  mood  to  regard  this  vanity 
complacently,  went  up  on  deck  and  declined  to 
have  anything  to  do  with  the  matter.  He  main- 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  103 

tained  this  attitude  of  immovable  virtue  until  tea- 
time,  by  which  time  Flower's  entreaties  had  so  won 
upon  him  that  he  was  reluctantly  compelled  to 
admit  that  it  seemed  to  be  the  only  thing  possible 
in  the  circumstances,  and  more  reluctantly  still  to 
promise  his  aid  to  the  most  unscrupulous  extent 
possible. 

"  I'll  write  to  you  when  I'm  fixed  up,"  said  the 
skipper,  "  giving  you  my  new  name  and  address. 
You're  the  only  person  I  shall  be  able  to  keep 
touch  with.  I  shall  have  to  rely  upon  you  for 
everything.  If  it  wasn't  for  you  I  should  be  dead 
to  the  world." 

"  I  know  what  you'll  do  as  well  as  possible,"  said 
Fraser ;  "  you've  got  nothing  to  do  for  six  months, 
and  you'll  be  getting  into  some  more  engagements." 

"  I  don't  think  you  have  any  call  to  say  that, 
Jack,"  remarked  Flower,  with  some  dignity. 

"  Well,  I  wish  it  was  well  over,"  said  the  mate, 
despondently.  "What  are  you  going  to  do  for 
money  ?" 

"  I  drew  out  £40  to  get  married  with — furniture 
and  things,"  said  Flower ;  "  that'll  go  overboard 
with  me,  of  course.  I'm  doing  all  this  for  Poppy's 
sake  more  than  my  own,  and  I  want  you  to  go  up 
and  see  her  every  trip,  and  let  me  know  how  she  is. 


104  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

She  mightn't  care  what  happened  to  her  if  she 
thinks  I'm  gone,  and  she  might  marry  somebody 
else  in  desperation." 

"  I  don't  care  about  facing  her,"  said  Fraser, 
bitterly ;  "  it's  a  shady  business  altogether." 

"  It's  for  her  sake,"  repeated  Flower,  calmly, 
"  Take  on  old  Ben  as  mate,  and  ship  another  hand 
forward. " 

The  mate  ended  the  subject  by  going  to  his 
bunk  and  turning  in ;  the  skipper,  who  realised 
that  he  himself  would  have  plenty  of  time  for 
sleep,  went  on  deck  and  sat  silently  smoking.  Old 
Ben  was  at  the  wheel,  and  the  skipper  felt  a  glow 
of  self-rightousness  as  he  thought  of  the  rise  in  life 
he  was  about  to  give  the  poor  fellow. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  mate  relieved  Ben,  and  the 
skipper  with  a  view  of  keeping  up  appearances 
announced  his  intention  of  turning  in  for  a  bit. 

The  sun  went  down  behind  clouds  of  smoky  red, 
but  the  light  of  the  summer  evening  lasted  for 
some  time  after.  Then  darkness  came  down  over 
the  sea,  and  it  was  desolate  except  for  the  side- 
lights of  distant  craft.  The  mate  drew  out  his 
watch  and  by  the  light  of  the  binnacle-lamp,  saw 
that  it  was  ten  minutes  to  ten.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment he  heard  somebody  moving  about  forward. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  105 

"  Who  s  that  for'ard  ?  "  he  cried,  smartly. 

"  Me,  sir,"  answered  Joe's  voice.  "  I'm  a  bit 
wakeful,  and  it's  stiflin'  'ot  down  below." 

The  mate  hesitated,  and  then,  glancing  at  the 
open  skylight,  saw  the  skipper,  who  was  standing 
on  the  table. 

"  Send  him  below,"  said  the  latter,  in  a  sharp 
whisper. 

"  You'd  better  get  below,  Joe,"  said  the  mate. 

"W'y,  I  ain't  doin*  no  'arm,  sir,"  said  Joe,  in 
surprise. 

"  Get  below,"  said  the  mate,  sharply.  "  Do  you 
hear? — get  below.  You'll  be  sleeping  in  your 
watch  if  you  don't  sleep  now." 

The  sounds  of  a  carefully  modulated  grumble 
came  faintly  aft,  then  the  mate,  leaning  away  from 
the  wheel  to  avoid  the  galley  which  obstructed  his 
view,  saw  that  his  order  had  been  obeyed. 

"  Now,"  said  the  skipper,  quietly,  "  you  must 
give  a  perfect  scream  of  horror,  mind,  and  put  this 
on  the  deck.  It  fell  off  as  I  went  over,  d'ye  see?  " 

He  handed  over  the  slipper  he  had  been  wearing, 
and  the  mate  took  it  surlily. 

"There  ought  to  be  a  splash,"  he  murmured. 
"  Joe's  awake." 

The  skipper  vanished,  to  reappear  a  minute  or 


io6  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

two  later  with  a  sack  into  which  he  had  hastily 
thrust  a  few  lumps  of  coal  and  other  rubbish.  The 
mate  took  it  from  him,  and,  placing  the  slipper  on 
the  deck,  stood  with  one  hand  holding  the  wheel 
and  the  other  the  ridiculous  sack. 

"  Now,"  said  the  skipper. 

The  sack  went  overboard,  and,  at  the  same 
moment,  the  mate  left  the  wheel  with  an  ear-split- 
ting yell  and  rushed  to  the  galley  for  the  life-belt 
which  hung  there.  He  crashed  heavily  into  Joe, 
who  had  rushed  on  deck,  but,  without  pausing,  ran 
to  the  side  and  flung  it  overboard. 

"  Skipper's  overboard,"  he  yelled,  running  back 
and  putting  the  helm  down. 

Joe  put  his  head  down  the  fore-scuttle  and  yelled 
like  a  maniac ;  the  others  came  up  in  their  night- 
gear,  and  in  a  marvellously  short  space  of  time  the 
schooner  was  hove  to  and  the  cook  and  Joe  had 
tumbled  into  the  boat  and  were  pulling  back  lustily 
in  search  of  the  skipper. 

Half  an  hour  elapsed,  during  which  those  on  the 
schooner  hung  over  the  stern  listening  intently. 
They  could  hear  the  oars  in  the  rowlocks  and  the 
shouts  of  the  rowers.  Tim  lit  a  lantern  and  dangled 
it  over  the  water. 

"  Have  you  got  'im  ?  "  cried   Ben,  as   the  boat 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  107 

came  over  the  darkness  and  the  light  of  the  lantern 
shone  on  the  upturned  faces  of  the  men. 

"  No,"  said  Joe,  huskily. 

Ben  threw  him  a  line,  and  he  clambered  silently 
aboard,  followed  by  the  cook. 

"  Better  put  about,"  he  said  to  the  mate,  "  and 
crujse  about  until  daylight.  We  ain't  found  the 
belt  either,  and  it's  just  possible  he's  got  it." 

The  mate  shook  his  head.  "  It's  no  good,"  he 
said,  confidently  ;  "he's  gone." 

"Well,  I  vote  we  try,  anyhow,"  said  Joe,  turn, 
ing  on  him  fiercely.  "  How  did  it  happen  ?" 

"  He  came  up  on  deck  to  speak  to  me,"  said  the 
mate,  shortly.  "  He  fancied  he  heard  a  cry  from 
the  water  and  jumped  up  on  the  side  with  his  hand 
on  the  rigging  to  see.  I  s'pose  his  bad  foot  slipped 
and  he  went  over  before  I  could  move." 

"  We'll  cruise  about  a  bit,"  said  Joe,  loudly, 
turning  to  the  men. 

"  Are  you  giving  orders  here,  or  am  I  ?"  said  the 
mate  sternly. 

"  I  am,"  said  Joe,  violently.  "  It's  our  duty  to 
do  all  we  can."  There  was  a  dead  silence.  Joe, 
pushing  himself  in  between  Ben  and  the  cook,  eyed 
the  men  eagerly. 


io8  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  said  the  mate  at 
last. 

"  Wot  I  say,"  said  Joe,  meeting  him  eye  to  eye, 
and  thrusting  his  face  close  to  his. 

The  mate  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  walked 
slowly  aft ;  then,  with  a  regard  for  appearances 
which  the  occasion  fully  warranted,  took  the 
schooner  for  a  little  circular  tour  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  skipper's  disappearance. 

At  daybreak,  not  feeling  the  loss  quite  as  much 
as  the  men,  he  went  below,  and,  having  looked 
stealthily  round,  unlocked  the  door  of  the  state-room 
and  peeped  in.  It  was  almost  uncanny,  considering 
the  circumstances,  to  see  in  the  dim  light  the  skip- 
per sitting  on  the  edge  of  his  bunk. 

"  What  the  blazes  are  you  doing,  dodging  about 
like  this?  "  he  burst  out,  ungratefully. 

"  Looking  for  the  body,"  said  the  mate.  "  Ain't 
you  heard  us  shouting  ?  It's  not  my  fault — the  crew 
say  they  won't  leave  the  spot  while  there's  half  a 
chance." 

"  Blast  the  crew/'  said  the  skipper,  quite  un- 
touched  by  this  devotion.  "  Ain't  you  taking  charge 
o'  the  ship  ?  " 

"  Joe's  about  half  mad,"  said  the  mate.  "  It's 
wonderful  how  upset  he  is." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  109 

The  skipper  cursed  Joe  separately,  and  the  mate, 
whose  temper  was  getting  bad,  closed_the  interview 
by  locking  the  door. 

At  five  o'clock,  by  which  time  they  had  cleared 
three  masses  of  weed  and  a  barnacle-covered  plank, 
they  abandoned  the  search  and  resumed  the  voy- 
age,, A  gloom  settled  on  the  forecastle,  and  the 
cook  took  advantage  of  the  occasion  to  read  Tim  a 
homily  upon  the  shortness  of  life  and  the  sud- 
denness of  death.  Tim  was  much  affected,  but  not 
nearly  so  much  as  he  was  when  he  discovered  that 
the  men  were  going  to  pay  a  last  tribute  to  the  late 
captain's  memory  by  abstaining  from  breakfast. 
He  ventured  to  remark  that  the  excitement  and  the 
night  air  had  made  him  feel  very  hungry,  and  was 
promptly  called  an  unfeeling  little  brute  by 
the  men  for  his  pains,,  The  mate,  who,  in  def- 
erence to  public  opinion,  had  to  keep  up  ap- 
pearances the  same  way,  was  almost  as  much 
annoyed  as  Tim,  and,  as  for  the  drowned  man  him- 
self, his  state  of  mind  was  the  worst  of  all.  He  was 
so  ungrateful  that  the  mate  at  length  lost  his  temper 
and  when  dinner  was  served  allowed  a  latent  sense 
of  humour  to  have  full  play. 

It  consisted  of  boiled  beef,  with  duff,  carrots,  and 
potatoes,  and  its  grateful  incense  filled  the  cabin. 


I  io  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

The  mate  attacked  it  lustily  listening  between 
mouthfuls  for  any  interruption  from  the  state-room. 
At  length,  unable  to  endure  it  any  longer,  the  pris- 
oner ventured  to  scratch  lightly  on  the  door. 

"  Hist ! "  said  the  mate,  in  a  whisper. 

The  scratching  ceased,  and  the  mate,  grinning 
broadly,  resumed  his  dinner.  He  finished  at  last, 
and  lighting  his  pipe  sat  back  easily  in  the  locker 
watching  the  door  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye. 

With  hunger  at  his  vitals  the  unfortunate  skipper, 
hardly  able  to  believe  his  ears,  heard  the  cook  come 
down  and  clear  away.  The  smell  of  dinner  gave 
way  to  that  of  tobacco,  and  the  mate,  having  half 
finished  his  pipe,  approached  the  door. 

"  Are  you  there  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  whisper. 

"  Of  course  I  am,  you  fool !  "  said  the  skipper, 
wrathfully  ;  "  where's  my  dinner  ?  " 

"  I'm  very  sorry  "  began  the  mate,  in  a  whisper. 

"  What  ?  "  enquired  the  skipper,  fiercely. 

"I've  mislaid  the  key,"  said  the  mate,  grinning 
fiendishly,  "  an',  what's  more,  I  can't  think  what 
I've  done  with  it." 

At  this  intelligence,  the  remnants  of  the  skipper's 
temper  vanished,  and  every  bad  word  he  had 
heard  of,  or  read  of,  or  dreamt  of,  floated  from  his 
hungry  lips  in  frenzied  whispers.  . 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  in 

"I  can't  hear  what  you  say,"  said  the  mate. 
"What?" 

The  prisoner  was  about  to  repeat  his  remarks 
with  a  few  embellishments,  when  the  mate  stopped 
him  with  one  little  word.  "  Hist !  "  he  said,  quietly. 

At  the  imminent  risk  of  bursting,  or  going  mad, 
the  skipper  stopped  short,  and  the  mate,  address- 
ing a  remark  to  the  cook,  who  was  not  present, 
went  up  on  deck. 

He  found  the  key  by  tea-time,  and,  his  triumph 
having  made  him  generous,  passed  the  skipper 
in  a  large  hunk  of  the  cold  beef  with  his  tea. 
The  skipper  took  it  and  eyed  him  wanly,  having 
found  an  empty  stomach  very  conducive  to  accurate 
thinking. 

"The  next  thing  is  to  slip  ashore  at  Wapping, 
Jack,"  he  said,  after  he  had  finished  his  meal ; 
"  the  wharfll  be  closed  by  the  time  we  get  there." 

"  The  watchman's  nearly  sure  to  be  asleep,"  said 
Fraser,  "  and  you  can  easily  climb  the  gate.  If 
he's  not,  I  must  try  and  get  him  out  of  the  way 
somehow." 

The  skipper's  forebodings  proved  to  be  correct.  It 
was  past  twelve  by  the  time  they  reached  Wapping, 
but  the  watchman  was  wide  awake  and,  with  much 
bustle,  helped  them  to  berth  their  craft.  He 


112  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

received  the  news  of  the  skipper's  untimely  end 
with  well-bred  sorrow,  and  at  once  excited  the 
wrath  of  the  sensitive  Joe  by  saying  that  he  was 
not  surprised. 

"  I  'ad  a  warning,"  he  said  solemnly,  in  reply  to 
the  indignant  seaman.  "  Larst  night  exactly  as 
Big  Ben  struck  ten  o'clock  the  gate-bell  was  pulled 
three  times." 

"  I've  pulled  it  fifty  times  myself  before  now," 
said  Joe,  scathingly,  "  and  then  had  to  climb  over 
the  gate  and  wake  you  up." 

"  I  went  to  the  gate  al  once,"  continued  George, 
addressing  himself  to  thu  cook  ;  "  sometimes  when 
I'm  shifting  a  barge,  or  doing  any  little  job  o'  that 
sort,  I  do  'ave  to  keep  a  man  waiting,  and,  if  he's 
drunk,  two  minutes  seems  like  ages  to  'im." 

"  You  ought  to  know  wot  it  seems  like,"  muttered 
Joe. 

"  When  I  got  to  the  gate  an*  opened  it  there  was 
nobody  there,"  continued  the  watchman,  impres- 
sively, "  and  while  I  was  standing  there  I  saw  the 
bell-pull  go  up  an'  down  without  'ands  and  the  bell 
rung  agin  three  times." 

The  cook  shivered.  "Wasn't  you  frightened, 
George  ?  "  he  asked,  sympathetically. 

"I    knew    it    was    a    warning,"  continued    the 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  113 

vivacious  George.  "  W'y  'e  should  come  to  me  I 
don't  know.  One  thing  is  I  think  'e  always  'ad  a 
bit  of  a  fancy  for  me." 

"  He  'ad,"  said  Joe ;  "  everybody  wot  sees  you 
loves  you,  George.  They  can't  help  theirselves." 

"  And  I  'ave  'ad  them  two  ladies  down  agin  ask- 
ing for  Mr.  Robinson,  and  also  for  poor  Cap'n 
Flower,"  said  the  watchman ;  "  they  asked  me 
some  questions  about  'im,  and  I  told  'em  the  lies 
wot  you  told  me  to  tell  'em,  Joe  ;  p'r'aps  that's  w'y 
I  'ad  the  warning." 

Joe  turned  away  with  a  growl  and  went  below, 
and  Tim  and  the  cook  after  greedily  waiting  for 
some  time  to  give  the  watchman's  imagination  a 
further  chance,  followed  his  example.  George  left 
to  himself  took  his  old  seat  on  the  post  at  the  end 
of  the  jetty,  being,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  some- 
what  alarmed  by  his  own  fertile  inventions. 

Three  times  did  the  mate,  in  response  to  the 
frenzied  commands  of  the  skipper,  come  stealthily 
up  the  companion-way  and  look  at  him.  Time  was 
passing  and  action  of  some  kind  was  imperative. 

"  George,"  he  whispered,  suddenly. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  watchman. 

"  I  want  to  speak  to  you,"  said  Fraser,  myster- 
iously ;  "  come  down  here." 


114  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

George  rose  carefully  from  his  seat,  and  lowering 
himself  gingerly  on  board,  crept  on  tiptoe  to  the 
galley  after  the  mate. 

"  Wait  in  here  till  I  come  back,"  said  the  latter, 
in  a  thrilling  whisper ;  "  I've  got  something  to  show 
you.  Don't  move,  whatever  happens." 

His  tones  were  so  fearful,  and  he  put  so  much 
emphasis  on  the  last  sentence,  that  the  watchman 
burst  hurriedly  out  of  the  galley. 

"  I  don't  like  these  mysteries,"  he  said,  plainly. 

"  There's  no  mystery,"  said  the  mate,  pushing 
him  back  again ;  "  something  I  don't  want  the  crew 
to  see,  that's  all.  You're  the  only  man  I  can  trust." 

He  closed  the  door  and  coughed,  and  a  figure 
which  had  been  lurking  on  the  companion-ladder, 
slipped  hastily  on  deck  and  clambered  noiselessly 
onto  the  jetty.  The  mate  clambered  up  beside  it, 
and  hurrying  with  it  to  the  gate  helped  it  over,  and 
with  much  satisfaction  heard  it  alight  on  the  other 
side. 

"Good-night,  Jack,"  said  Flower.  "  Don't  forget 
to  look  after  Poppy." 

"  Good-night,"  said  the  mate.  "  Write  as  soon  as 
you're  fixed." 

He  walked  back  leisurely  to  the  schooner  and 
stood  in  some  perplexity,  eyeing  the  galley  which 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  115 

contained  the  devoted  George.  He  stood  for  so 
long  that  his  victim  lost  all  patience,  and,  sliding 
back  the  door,  peered  out  and  discovered  him. 

"  Have  you  got  it?  "  he  asked,  softly. 

"  No,"  replied  Fraser ;  "  there  isn't  anything.  I 
was  only  making  a  fool  of  you,  George.  Good- 
night." He  walked  aft,  and  stood  at  the  companion 
watching  the  outraged  George  as  he  came  slowly 
out  of  the  galley  and  stared  about  him. 

"  Good-night,  George,"  he  repeated. 

The  watchman  made  no  reply  to  the  greeting, 
but,  breathing  heavily,  resumed  his  old  seat  on  the 
post ;  and,  folding  his  arms  across  his  panting 
bosom,  looked  down  with  majestic  scorn  upon  the 
schooner  and  all  its  contents.  Long  after  the  satis- 
fied mate  had  forgotten  the  incident  in  sleep,  he 
sat  there  striving  to  digest  the  insult  of  which  he  had 
been  the  victim,  and  to  consider  a  painful  and  fit- 
ting retribution. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  mate  awoke  next  morning  to  a  full  sense  of 
the  unpleasant  task  before  him,  and,  after  irritably 
giving  orders  for  the  removal  of  the  tarpaulin  from 
the  skylight,  a  substitution  of  the  ingenious  cook's 
for  the  drawn  blinds  ashore,  sat  down  to  a  solitary 
breakfast  and  the  composition  of  a  telegram  to 
Captain  Barber.  The  first,  a  beautiful  piece  of 
prose,  of  which  the  key-note  was  resignation, 
contained  two  shillings'  worth  of  sympathy  and 
fourpence-halfpenny  worth  of  religion.  It  was  too 
expensive  as  it  stood,  and  boiled  down,  he  was  sur- 
prised to  find  that  it  became  unfeeling  to  the 
verge  of  flippancy.  Ultimately  he  embodied  it  in 
a  letter,  which  he  preceded  by  a  telegram,  break- 
ing the  sad  news  in  as  gentle  a  form  as  could  be 
managed  for  one-and-three. 

The  best  part  of  the  day  was  spent  in  relating 
the  sad  end  of  Captain  Fred  Flower  to  various 
enquirers.  The  deceased  gentleman  was  a  popular 
favourite,  and  clerks  from  the  office  and  brother 
skippers  came  down  in  little  knots  to  learn  the  full 
particulars,  and  to  compare  the  accident  with  others 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  117 

in  their  experience.  It  reminded  one  skipper,  who 
invariably  took  to  drink  when  his  feelings  were 
touched,  of  the  death  of  a  little  nephew  from 
whooping-cough,  and  he  was  so  moved  over  a  pic- 
ture he  drew  of  the  meeting  of  the  two,  that  it  took 
four  men  to  get  him  off  the  schooner  without  vio- 
lence. 

The  mate  sat  for  some  time  after  tea  striving  to 
summon  up  sufficient  courage  for  his  journey  to 
Poplar,  and  wondering  whether  it  wouldn't  perhaps 
be  better  to  communicate  the  news  by  letter.  He 
even  went  so  far  as  to  get  the  writing  materials 
ready,  and  then,  remembering  his  promise  to  the 
skipper,  put  them  away  again  and  prepared  for  his 
visit.  The  crew  who  were  on  deck  eyed  him 
stolidly  as  he  departed,  and  Joe  made  a  remark  to 
the  cook,  which  that  worthy  drowned  in  a  loud  and 
troublesome  cough. 

The  Wheeler  family  were  at  home  when  he 
arrived,  and  received  him  with  some  surprise. 
Mrs.  Wheeler,  who  was  in  her  usual  place  on  the 
sofa,  shook  hands  with  him  in  a  genteel  fashion, 
and  calling  his  attention  to  a  somewhat  loudly 
attired  young  man  of  unpleasant  appearance,  who 
was  making  a  late  tea,  introduced  him  as  her  son 
Bob 


Ii8  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  Is  Miss  Tyrellin?"  enquired  Fraser,  shaking  his 
head  as  Mr.  Wheeler  dusted  a  small  Wheeler  off  a 
chair  and  offered  it  to  him. 

"  She's  upstairs,"  said  Emma  Wheeler ;  "  shall  I 
go  and  fetch  her?  " 

"  No,  I'll  go  up  to  her,"  said  the  mate  quietly. 
"  I  think  I'd  better  see  her  alone.  I've  got  rather 
bad  news  for  her.  " 

"  About  the  captain  ?  "  enquired  Mrs.  Wheeler, 
sharply. 

"  Yes,"  said  Fraser,  turning  somewhat  red. 
"  Very  bad  news." 

He  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  ground,  and,  in  a 
spasmodic  fashion,  made  perfect  by  practice,  recited 
the  disaster. 

44  Pore  feller,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler,  when  he  had 
finished.  "  Pore  feller,  and  cut  down  suddenly  like 
that.  I  s'pose  he  'adn't  made  any  preparation 
for  it?" 

"  Not  a  bit,"  said  the  mate,  starting,  "  quite 
unprepared." 

"  You  didn't  jump  over  after  him  ?  "  suggested 
Miss  Wheeler,  softly. 

"  I  did  not,"  said  the  mate,  firmly ;  whereupon 
Miss  Wheeler,  who  was  fond  of  penny  romance, 
sighed  and  shook  her  head. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  119 

"There's  that  pore  gal  upstairs,"  said  Mrs. 
Wheeler,  sorrowfully,  "  all  innocent  and  happy, 
probably  expecting  him  to  come  to-night  and  take 
her  out.  Emma'd  better  go  up  and  break  it  to  'er." 

"  I  will,"  said  Fraser,  shortly. 

"  Better  to  let  a  woman  do  it,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler. 
"When  our  little  Jemmy  smashed  his  finger  we  sent 
Emma  down  to  break  it  to  his  father  and  bring  'im 
'orne.  It  was  ever  so  long  before  she  let  you 
know  the  truth,  wasn't  it,  father?" 

"  Made  me  think  all  sorts  of  things  with  'her 
mysteries,"  said  the  dutiful  Mr.  Wheeler,  in  tri- 
umphant  corroboration.  "  First  of  all  she  made 
me  think  you  was  dead  ;  then  I  thought  you  was 
all  dead — give  me  such  a  turn  they  'ad  to  give  me 
brandy  to  bring  me  round.  When  I  found  out  it 
was  only  Jemmy's  finger,  I  was  nearly  off  my  'ed 
with  joy." 

"I'll  go  and  tell  her,"  interrupted  Mr.  Bob 
Wheeler,  delicately,  using  the  inside  edge  of  the 
table-cloth  as  a  serviette.  "  I  can  do  it  better  than 
Emma  can.  What  she  wants  is  comforting;  Emma 
would  go  and  snivel  all  over  her." 

Mrs.  Wheeler,  raising  her  head  from  the  sofa, 
regarded  the  speaker  with  looks  of  tender  admira- 
tion, and  the  young  man,  after  a  lengthy  glance  in 


120  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

the  small  pier-glass  ornamented  with  coloured 
paper,  which  stood  on  the  mantel-piece,  walked  to 
the  door. 

"  You  needn't  trouble,"  said  Fraser,  slowly :  "  I'm 
going  to  tell  her." 

Mrs.  Wheeler's  dull  eyes  snapped  sharply. 
"  She's  our  lodger,"  she  said,  aggressively. 

"  Yes,  but  I'm  going  to  tell  her,"  rejoined  the 
mate  ;  "  the  skipper  told  me  to." 

A  startled  silence  was  broken  by  Mr.  Wheeler's 
chair,  which  fell  noisily. 

"  I  mean,"  stammered  Fraser,  meeting  the  per. 
turbed  gaze  of  the  dock-foreman,  "  that  he  told  me 
once  if  anything  happened  to  him  that  I  was  to 
break  the  news  to  Miss  Tyrell.  It's  been  such  a 
shock  to  me  I  hardly  know  what  I  am  saying." 

"  Yes,  you'll  go  and  frighten  her,"  said  Bob 
Wheeler,  endeavouring  to  push  past  him. 

The  mate  blocked  the  doorway. 

"  Are  you  going  to  try  to  prevent  me  going  out  of 
a  room  in  my  own  house?  "  blustered  the  young  man. 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Fraser,  and,  giving  way, 
ascended  the  stairs  before  him.  Mr.  Wheeler, 
junior,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  turned  back 
and,  muttering  threats  under  his  breath,  returned 
to  the  parlour. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  121 

Miss  Tyrell,  who  was  sitting  by  the  window  read- 
ing, rose  upon  the  mate's  entrance,  and,  observing 
that  he  was  alone,  evinced  a  little  surprise  as  she 
shook  hands  with  him.  It  was  the  one  thing 
necessary  to  complete  his  discomfiture,  and  he 
stood  before  her  in  a  state  of  guilty  confusion. 

"  Cap'n  Flower  couldn't  come,"  he  stammered. 

The  girl  said  nothing,  but  with  her  dark  eyes 
fixed  upon  his  flushed  face  waited  for  him  to  con- 
tinue. 

"  It's  his  misfortune  that  he  couldn't  come,"  con- 
tinued Fraser,  jerkily. 

"  Business,  I  suppose  ?  "  said  the  girl,  after  another 
wait.  "  Won't  you  sit  down  ?  " 

"  Bad  business,"  replied  Fraser.  He  sat  down, 
and  fancied  he  saw  the  way  clear  before  him. 

"  You've  left  him  on  the  Foam,  I  suppose  ?  "  said 
Poppy,  seeing  that  she  was  expected  to  speak. 

41  No ;  farther  back  than  that,"  was  the  response. 

"Seabridge?"  queried  the  girl,  with  an  air  of 
indifference. 

Fraser  regarded  her  with  an  expression  of  studied 
sadness.  "Not  so  far  back  as  that,"  he  said, 
aoftly. 

Miss  Tyrell  manifested  a  slight  restlessness.  "  Is 
it  a  sort  of  riddle  ?  "  she  demanded. 


122  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  No,  it's  a  tale,"  replied  Fraser,  not  without  a 
secret  admiration  of  his  unsuspected  powers  of 
breaking  bad  news ;  "  a  tale  with  a  bad  ending." 

The  girl  misunderstood  him.  "  If  you  mean  that 
Captain  Flower  doesn't  want  to  come  here,  and 
sent  you  to  say  so "  she  began,  with  dignity. 

"  He  can't  come,"  interrupted  the  mate,  hastily. 

"  Did  he  send  you  to  tell  me  ?  "  she  asked 

Fraser  shook  his  head  mournfully.  "  He  can't 
come,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice  ;  "he  had  a  bad  foot 
— night  before  last  he  was  standing  on  the  ship's 
side — when  he  lost  his  hold " 

He  broke  off  and  eyed  the  girl  nervously,  "  and 
fell  overboard,"  he  concluded. 

Poppy  Tyrell  gave  a  faint  cry  and,  springing  to 
her  feet,  stood  with  her  hand  on  the  back  of  her 
chair  regarding  him.  "  Poor  fellow,"  she  said,  softly 
—"poor  fellow." 

She  sat  down  again  by  the  open  window  and 
nervously  plucked  at  the  leaves  of  a  geranium. 
Her  face  was  white  and  her  dark  eyes  pitiful  and 
tender.  Fraser,  watching  her,  cursed  his  resource- 
ful skipper  and  hated  himself. 

"  It's  a  terrible  thing  for  his  friends,"  said  Poppy, 
at  length. 

"  And  for  you,"  said  Fraser,  respectfully. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  123 

"I  am  very  grieved,"  said  Poppy,  quietly  ;  "very 
shocked  and  very  grieved." 

"  I  have  got  strong  hopes  that  he  may  have  got 
picked  up,"  said  Fraser,  cheerfully ;  "  very  strong 
hopes.  I  threw  him  a  life-belt,  and  though  we  got 
the  boat  out  and  pulled  about,  we  couldn't  find 
either  of  them.  I  shouldn't  be  at  all  surprised  if 
he  has  been  picked  up  by  some  vessel  outward 
bound.  Stranger  things  have  happened." 

The  girl  shook  her  head.  "  You  didn't  go  over- 
board  after  him  ?  "  she  asked,  quietly. 

"  I  did  not,"  said  the  mate,  who  was  somewhat 
tired  of  this  tactless  question  ;  "  I  had  to  stand  by 
the  ship,  and  besides,  he  was  a  much  better  swim- 
mer than  I  am — I  did  the  best  I  could." 

Miss  Tyrell  bowed  her  head  in  answer.  "  Yes," 
she  said,  softly. 

"  If  there's  anything  I  can  do,"  said  Fraser,  awk- 
wardly, "  or  be  of  use  to  you  in  any  way,  I  hope 
you'll  let  me  know — Flower  told  me  you  were  all 
alone,  and " 

He  broke  off  suddenly  as  he  saw  the  girl's  lips 
quiver.  "  I  was  very  fond  of  my  father,"  she  said, 
in  extenuation  of  this  weakness. 

"  I  suppose  you've  got  some  relatives  ? "  said 
Fraser. 


124  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

The  girl  shook  her  head. 

"  No  cousins  ? "  said  Fraser,  staring.  He  had 
twenty-three  himself. 

"  I  have  some  in  New  Zealand,"  said  Poppy,  con- 
sidering. "  If  I  could,  I  think  I  should  go  out 
there." 

"  And  give  up  your  business  here  ?  "  enquired  the 
mate,  anxiously. 

"  It  gave  me  up,"  said  Poppy,  with  a  little  trem- 
ulous laugh.  "  I  had  a  week's  pay  instead  of  notice 
the  day  before  yesterday.  If  you  know  anybody 
who  wants  a  clerk  who  spells  '  impatient '  with  a  *  y  * 
and  is  off-hand  when  they  are  told  of  it,  you  might 
let  me  know." 

The  mate  stared  at  her  blankly.  This  was  a  far 
more  serious  case  than  Captain  Flower's.  "  What 
are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Try  for  another  berth,"  was  the  reply. 

"  But  if  you  don't  get  it  ?  " 

"  I  shall  get  it  sooner  or  later,"  said  the  girl. 

"  But  suppose  you  don't  get  one  for  a  long  time  ?  " 
suggested  Fraser. 

"  I  must  wait  till  I  do,"  said  the  girl,  quietly. 

"You  see,"  continued  the  mate,  twisting  his 
hands,  "  it  might  be  a  long  job,  and  I — I  was  won- 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  125 

dering — what  you  would  do  in  the  meantime.  I 
was  wondering  whether  you  could  hold  out." 

"  Hold  out  ?  "  repeated  Miss  Tyrell,  very  coldly. 

"  Whether  you've  got  enough  money,"  blurted 
the  mate. 

Miss  Tyrell  turned  upon  him  a  face  in  which 
there  was  now  no  lack  of  colour.  "  That  is  my 
business,"  she  said,  stiffly. 

"  Mine,  too,"  said  Fraser,  gazing  steadily  at  the 
pretty  picture  of  indignation  before  him.  "  I  was 
Flower's  friend  as  well  as  his  mate,  and  you  are 
only  a  girl."  The  indignation  became  impatience. 
"  Little  more  than  a  child,"  he  murmured,  scruti- 
nising her. 

"  I  am  quite  big  enough  to  mind  my  own  busi- 
ness," said  Poppy,  reverting  to  chilly  politeness. 

"  I  wish  you  would  promise  me  you  won't  leave 
here  or  do  anything  until  I  have  seen  you  again," 
said  Fraser,  who  was  anxious  to  consult  his  captain 
on  this  new  phase  of  affairs. 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Miss  Tyrell,  rising  and 
standing  by  her  chair,  "  and  thank  you  for  calling." 

Fraser  rubbed  his  chin  helplessly. 

"Thank  you  for  calling,"  repeated  the  girl,  still 
standing, 

"  That   is   telling  me   to   go,    I  suppose  ? "  said 


126  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

Fraser,  looking  at  her  frankly.  "  I  wish  I  knew 
how  to  talk  to  you.  When  I  think  of  you  being 
here  all  alone,  without  friends  and  without  employ- 
ment, it  seems  wrong  for  me  to  go  and  leave  you 
here." 

Miss  Tyrell  gave  a  faint  gasp  and  glanced  anx- 
iously at  the  door.  Fraser  hesitated  a  moment,  and 
then  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  If  I  hear  anything  more,  may  I  come  and  tell 
you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  said  Poppy,  "  or  write ;  perhaps  it  would 
be  better  to  write  ;  I  might  not  be  at  home.  Good- 
bye." 

The  mate  shook  hands,  and,  blundering  down  the 
stairs,  shouted  good-night  to  a  segment  of  the 
Wheeler  family  visible  through  the  half-open  door, 
and  passed  out  into  the  street.  He  walked  for 
some  time  rapidly,  gradually  slowing  down  as  he 
collected  his  thoughts. 

"  Flower's  a  fool,"  he  said,  bitterly  ;  "  and,  as  for 
me,  I  don't  know  what  I  am.  It's  so  long  since  I 
told  the  truth  I  forget  what  it's  like,  and  I'd  sooner 
tell  lies  in  a  church  than  tell  them  to  her." 


CHAPTER  X. 

HE  looked  expectantly  on  the  cabin  table  for  a 
letter  upon  his  return  to  the  ship,  but  was  disap- 
pointed, and  the  only  letter  yielded  by  the  post 
next  morning  came  from  Captain  Barber.  It  was 
couched  in  terms  of  great  resignation,  and  after 
bemoaning  the  unfortunate  skipper's  untimely  de- 
mise in  language  of  great  strength,  wound  up  with 
a  little  Scripture  and  asked  the  mate  to  act  as 
master  and  sail  the  schooner  home. 

"  You'll  act  as  mate,  Ben,  to  take  her  back,"  said 
the  »ew  skipper,  thrusting  the  letter  in  his  pocket. 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  said  Ben,  with  a  side  glance  at 
Joe,  "  but  I'll  keep  for'ard,  if  you  don't  mind." 

"As  you  please,"  said  Fraser,  staring. 

"And  you're  master,  I  s'pose?"  said  Joe,  turning 
to  Fraser. 

Fraser,  whose  manner  had  already  effected  the 
little  change  rendered  necessary  by  his  promotion 
from  mate  to  master,  nodded  curtly,  and  the  crew, 
after  another  exchange  of  looks,  resumed  their  work 
without  a  word.  Their  behaviour  all  day  was 
docile,  not  to  say  lamb-like,  and  it  was  not  until 


128  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

evening  that  the  new  skipper  found  it  necessary  to 
enforce  his  authority. 

The  exciting  cause  of  the  unpleasantness  was 
Mr.  William  Green,  a  slim,  furtive-eyed  young  man, 
whom  Fraser  took  on  in  the  afternoon  to  fill  the 
vacancy  caused  by  Ben's  promotion.  He  had  not 
been  on  board  half  an  hour  before  trouble  arose 
from  his  attempt  to  introduce  the  manners  of  the 
drawing-room  into  the  forecastle. 

"  Mr.  Will-yum  Green,"  repeated  Joe,  when  the 
new  arrival  had  introduced  himself;  "well,  you'll 
be  Bill  'ere." 

"  I  don't  see  why,  if  I  call  you  Mr.  Smith,  you 
shouldn't  call  me  Mr.  Green,"  said  the  other. 

"  Call  me  wot  ?  "  enquired  Joe,  sternly ;  "  you  let 
me  'ear  you  callin'  me  mister  anythink,  that's  all ; 
you  let  me  'ear  you." 

"  I'm  sure  the  cook  'ere  don't  mind  me  callin'  'im 
Mr.  Fisher,"  said  the  new  seaman. 

"Cert'nly  not,"  said  the  gratified  cook;  "only 
my  name's  Disher." 

The  newcomer  apologised  with  an  urbanity  that 
rendered  Joe  and  old  Ben  speechless.  They  gazed 
at  each  other  in  silent  consternation,  and  then  Ben 
rose. 

"  We  don't  want  no  misters  'ere,"  he  said,  curtly, 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  129 

*  an*  wot's  more,  we  won't  'ave  'em.  That  chap's 
name's  Bob,  but  we  calls  'im  Slushy.  If  it's  good 
enough  for  us,  it's  good  enough  for  a  ordinary  sea- 
man wot's  got  an  A.  B.  discharge  by  mistake. 
Let  me  'ear  you  call  'im  Slushy.  Go  on  now." 

"  I've  no  call  to  address  'im  at  all  just  now,"  said 
Mr.  Green,  loftily. 

"You  call  'im  Slushy,"  roared  Joe,  advancing 
upon  him  ;  "  call  'im  Slushy  till  I  tell  you  to  stop." 

"  Slushy,"  said  Mr.  Green,  sullenly,  and  avoiding 
the  pained  gaze  of  the  cook ;  "  Slushy,  Slushy, 
Slushy,  Slushy,  SI " 

"  That'll  do,"  said  the  cook,  rising,  with  a  scowl. 
"  You  don't  want  to  make  a  song  abart  it." 

Joe,  content  with  his  victory,  resumed  his  seat 
on  the  locker  and  exchanged  a  reassuring  glance 
with  Ben  ;  Mr.  Green,  with  a  deprecatory  glance  at 
the  cook,  sat  down  and  offered  him  a  pipe  of 
tobacco. 

"  Been  to  sea  long  ?  "  enquired  the  cook,  accept- 
ing  it. 

"  Not  long,"  said  the  other,  speaking  very  dis- 
tinctly. "  I  was  brought  up  for  something  quite 
different.  I'm  just  doing  this  till  something  better 
turns  up.  I  find  it  very  difficult  to  be  a  gentleman 
at  sea." 


130  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

The  cook,  with  an  eye  on  Joe,  ventured  on  a 
gentle  murmur  of  sympathy,  and  said  that  he  had 
experienced  the  same  thing. 

"  I  'ad  money,"  continued  Mr.  Green,  musingly, 
"  and  I  run  through  it ;  then  I  'ad  more  money,  and 
I  run  through  that." 

"  Ben,"  said  Joe,  suddenly,  "  pass  me  over  that 
boot  o'  yours." 

"  Wha*  for?"  enquired  Ben,  who  had  just  taken 
it  off. 

"  To  chuck  at  that  swab  there,"  said  the  in- 
dignant seaman. 

Ben  passed  it  over  without  a  word,  and  his  irri- 
tated friend,  taking  careful  aim,  launched  it  at  Mr. 
Green  and  caught  him  on  the  side  of  the  head  with 
it.  Pain  standing  the  latter  in  lieu  of  courage,  he 
snatched  it  up  and  returned  it,  and  the  next  mo- 
ment the  whole  forecastle  was  punching  somebody 
else's  head,  while  Tim,  in  a  state  of  fearful  joy, 
peered  down  on  it  from  his  bunk. 

Victory,  rendered  cheap  and  easy  by  reason  of 
the  purblindness  of  the  frantic  cook,  who  was  trying 
to  persuade  Mr.  Green  to  raise  his  face  from  the 
floor  so  that  he  could  punch  it  for  him,  remained 
with  Joe  and  Ben,  who,  in  reply  to  the  angry  shouts 
of  the  skipper  from  above,  pointed  silently  to  the 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  131 

combatants.  Explanations,  all  different  and  all 
ready  to  be  sworn  to  if  desired,  ensued,  and  Fraser, 
after  curtly  reminding  Ben  of  his  new  position  and 
requesting  him  to  keep  order,  walked  away. 

A  silence  broken  only  by  the  general  compliments 
of  the  much  gratified  Tim,  followed  his  departure, 
although  another  outbreak  nearly  occurred  owing  to 
the  cook  supplying  raw  meat  for  Mr.  Green's  eye 
and  refusing  it  for  Joe's.  It  was  the  lack  of  con- 
sideration and  feeling  that  affected  Joe,  not  for  the 
want  of  the  beef,  that  little  difficulty  being  easily 
surmounted  by  taking  Mr.  Green's.  The  tumult 
was  just  beginning  again,  when  it  was  arrested  by  the 
sound  of  angry  voices  above.  Tim,  followed  by  Joe, 
sprang  up  the  ladder,  and  the  couple  with  their 
heads  at  the  opening  listened  with  appreciative  en- 
joyment to  a  wordy  duel  between  Mrs.  Tipping  and 
daughter  and  the  watchman. 

"  Call  me  a  liar,  then,"  said  old  George,  in  be- 
reaved accents. 

"  I  have,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping. 

"  Only  you're  so  used  to  it  you  don't  notice  it," 
remarked  her  daughter,  scathingly. 

"  I  tell  you  he's  drownded,"  said  the  watchman, 
raising  his  voice  ;  "  if  you  don't  believe  me,  go  and 
",3k  Mr,  Fraser.  He's  skipper  in  his  place  now." 


132  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

He  waved  his  hand  in  the  direction  of  Fraser, 
who,  having  heard  the  noise,  was  coming  on  deck 
to  see  the  cause  of  it.  Mrs.  Tipping,  compressing 
her  lips,  got  on  board,  followed  by  her  daughter, 
and  marching  up  to  him  eyed  him  severely. 

"  I  wonder  you  can  look  us  in  the  face  after  the 
trick  you  served  us  the  other  night,"  she  said, 
fiercely. 

"You  brought  it  on  yourselves,'*  said  Fraser, 
calmly.  "  You  wouldn't  go  away,  you  know.  You 
can't  always  be  coming  here  worrying." 

"  We  shall  come  whenever  we  choose,"  said  Mrs. 
Tipping.  "  In  the  first  place,  we  want  to  see  Mr. 
Robinson;  anyway  we  intend  to  see  Captain  Flower, 
so  you  can  save  that  fat  old  man  the  trouble  of 
telling  us  lies  about  him." 

"  Captain  Flower  fell  overboard  night  before  last, 
if  that's  what  you  mean,"  said  Fraser,  gravely. 

"  I  never  saw  such  a  man  in  all  my  life,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Tipping,  wrathfully.  "You're  a  perfect — 
what's  the  man's  name  in  the  Scriptures  ? "  she 
asked,  turning  to  her  daughter. 

Miss  Tipping,  shaking  her  head  despondently, 
requested  her  parent  not  to  worry  her. 

"  Well,  it  doesn't  signify.  I  shall  wait  here  till 
he  comes,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  133 

"  What,  Ananias  ?  "  cried  Fraser,  forgetting  him- 
self. 

Mrs.  Tipping,  scorning  to  reply,  stood  for  some 
time  gazing  thoughtfully  about  her.  Then,  in  com- 
pliance with  her  whispered  instructions,  her  daughter 
crossed  to  the  side  and,  brushing  aside  the  out- 
stretched hand  of  the  watchman,  reached  the  jetty 
and  walked  into  the  office.  Two  of  the  clerks  were 
still  working  there,  and  she  came  back  hastily  to 
her  mother  with  the  story  of  the  captain's  death 
unmistakably  confirmed. 

Mrs.  Tipping,  loath  to  accept  defeat,  stood  for 
some  time  in  consideration.  "  What  had  Captain 
Flower  to  do  with  Mr.  Robinson?"  she  asked  at 
length,  turning  to  Fraser. 

"  Can't  say,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  Mr.  Robinson  ?  "  enquired 
the  girl. 

"  I  saw  him  one  night,"  said  the  other,  after  some 
deliberation.  "  Rather  good-looking  man,  bright 
blue  eyes,  good  teeth,  and  a  jolly  laugh." 

"  Are  you  likely  to  see  him  again  ?  "  enquired 
Miss  Tipping,  nodding  in  confirmation  of  these 
details. 

"  Not  now  poor  Flower's  gone,"  replied  Fraser. 
"I  fancy  we  shipped  some  cases  of  rifles  for  him  one 


134  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

night.  The  night  you  first  came.  I  don't  know 
what  it  all  was  about,  but  he  struck  me  as  being 
rather  a  secretive  sort  of  man." 

"  He  was  that,"  sighed  Miss  Tipping,  shaking  her 
head. 

"  I  heard  him  say  that  night,"  said  the  mate,  for- 
getful  of  his  recent  longings  after  truth,  "  that  he 
was  off  abroad.  He  said  that  something  was  spoil- 
ing his  life,  I  remember,  but  that  duty  came  first." 

"  There,  do  you  hear  that,  mother  ?  "  said  Miss 
Tipping. 

"  Yes,  I  hear,"  said  the  other,  with  an  aggressive 
sniff,  as  she  moved  slowly  to  the  side.  "  But  I'm 
not  satisfied  that  the  captain  is  dead.  They'd  tell 
us  anything.  You've  not  seen  the  last  of  me,  young 
man,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  Fraser,  cordially.  *  Any 
time  the  ship's  up  in  London  and  you  care  to  come 
down,  I  shall  be  pleased  to  see  you." 

Mrs.  Tipping,  heated  with  the  climb,  received 
this  courtesy  with  coldness,  and  having  enquired 
concerning  the  fate  of  Captain  Flower  of  six  differ- 
ent people,  and  verified  their  accounts  from  the 
landlord  of  the  public-house  at  the  corner,  to  whom 
she  introduced  herself  with  much  aplomb  as  being 
in  the  profession,  went  home  with  her  daughter,  in 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  135 

whom  depression,  in  its  most  chronic  form,  had 
settled  in  the  form  of  unfilial  disrespect. 

Two  hours  later  the  Foam  got  under  way,  and, 
affrer  some  heated  language  owing  to  the  watchman 
mistaking  Mr.  Green's  urbanity  for  sarcasm,  sailed 
slowly  down  the  river.  The  hands  were  unusually 
quiet,  but  their  behaviour  passed  unnoticed  by  the 
new  skipper,  who  was  too  perturbed  by  the  false- 
hoods he  had  told  and  those  he  was  about  to  tell  to 
take  much  heed  of  anything  that  was  passing. 

"  I  thought  you  said  you  preferred  to  keep  for- 
'ard  ?  "  he  said  to  Ben,  as  that  worthy  disturbed  his 
meditations  next  morning  by  bustling  into  the  cabin 
and  taking  his  seat  at  the  breakfast  table. 

"  I've  changed  my  mind ;  the  men  don't  know 
their  place,"  said  the  mate,  shortly. 

Fraser  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"  Forget  who  I  am,"  said  Ben,  gruffly.  "  I  was 
never  one  to  take  much  count  of  such  things,  but 
when  it  comes  to  being  patted  on  the  back  by  an 
A.  B.,  it's  time  to  remind  'em." 

"  Did  they  do  that  ?  "  said  Fraser,  in  a  voice  of 
horror. 

"  Joe  did,"  said  Ben.  "  'E  won't  do  it  ag'in,  I 
don't  think.  I  didn't  say  anything,  but  I  think  'e 
knows  my  feelings." 


136  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"There's  your  berth,"  said  Fraser,  indicating  it 
with  a  nod. 

Ben.  grunted  in  reply,  and  being  disinclined  for 
conversation,  busied  himself  with  the  meal,  and  as 
soon  as  he  had  finished  went  up  on  deck. 

"  Wot  yer  been  down  there  for,  Bennie?"  asked 
Joe,  severely,  as  he  appeared  ;  "  your  tea's  all  cold." 

"  I've  'ad  my  breakfast  with  the  skipper,"  said 
Ben,  shortly. 

"  You  was  always  fond  of  your  stummick,  Bennie," 
said  Joe,  shaking  his  head,  sorrowfully.  "  I  don't 
think  much  of  a  man  wot  leaves  his  old  mates  for  a 
bit  o'  bacon." 

The  new  mate  turned  away  from  him  haughtily, 
"  Tim,"  he  said,  sharply. 

"  Yes,  Ben,"  said  the  youth.  "  Why,  wot's  the 
matter?  Wot  are  you  looking  like  that  for? 
Ain't  you  well  ?  " 

"  Wot  did  you  call  me  ?  "  demanded  the  new  mate. 

"  I  didn't  call  you  anything,"  said  the  startled 
Tim. 

"  Let  me  'ear  you  call  me  Ben  ag*in  and  you'll 
hear  of  it,"  said  the  other,  sharply.  "  Go  and  clean 
the  brasswork." 

The  youth  strolled  off,  gasping,  with  an  envious 
glance  at  the  cook,  who,  standing  just  inside  the 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  137 

galley,  cheerfully  flaunted  a  saucepan  he  was  clean- 
ing, as  though  defying  the  mate  to  find  him  any 
work  to  do. 

"  Bill,"  said  the  mate. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  polite  seaman. 

"  Help  Joe  scrub  paintwork,"  was  the  reply. 

"Me!  "broke  in  the  indignant  Joe.  "  Scrub — 
Look  'ere,  Ben." 

"  Pore  old  Joe,"  said  the  cook,  who  had  not  for- 
given  him  for  the  previous  night's  affair.  "  Pore 
old  Joe." 

"Don't  stand  gaping  about,"  commanded  the 
new  mate.  "  Liven  up  there." 

"  It  don't  want  cleaning.  I  won't  do  it,"  said 
Joe,  fiercely. 

"  I've  give  my  orders,"  said  the  new  mate,  se- 
verely; "if  they  ain't  attended  to,  or  if  I  'ear  any 
more  about  not  doing  'em,  you'll  hear  of  it.  The 
idea  o'  telling  me  you  won't  do  it.  The  idea  o' 
setting  such  an  example  to  the  young  'uns.  The 
idea Wot  are  you  making  that  face  for?  " 

"  I've  got  the  earache,"  retorted  Joe,  with  bitter 
sarcasm. 

*  I  thought  you  would  'ave,  Joe,"  said  the  venge- 
ful cook,  retiring  behind  a  huge  frying-pan,  "  when 
I  'card  you  singing  this  morning." 


138  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

Fraser,  coming  on  deck,  was  just  in  time  to  see  a 
really  creditable  imitation  of  a  famous  sculpture  as 
represented  by  Joe,  Tim,  and  Ben,  but  his  criticism 
was  so  sharp  and  destructive  that  the  group  at  once 
broke  and  never  re-formed.  Indeed,  with  a  common 
foe  in  the  person  of  Ben,  the  crew  adjusted  their 
own  differences,  and  by  the  time  Seabridge  was  in 
sight  were  united  by  all  the  fearful  obligations  of  a 
secret  society  of  which  Joe  was  the  perpetual  presi- 
dent. 

Captain  Barber,  with  as  much  mourning  as  he 
could  muster  at  such  short  notice,  was  waiting  on 
the  quay.  His  weather-beaten  face  was  not  quite 
so  ruddy  as  usual,  and  Fraser,  with  a  strong  sense  of 
shame,  fancied,  as  the  old  man  clambered  aboard 
the  schooner,  that  his  movements  were  slower  than 
of  yore. 

"  This  is  a  dreadful  business,  Jack,"  he  said,  giv- 
ing him  a  hearty  grip,  when  at  length  he  stood 
aboard  the  schooner. 

"  Shocking,"  said  Fraser,  reddening. 

"  I've  spoken  to  have  the  coast-guards  look  out 
for  him,"  said  the  old  man.  "  He  may  come  ashore, 
and  I  know  he'd  be  pleased  to  be  put  in  the  church- 
yard decent." 

"  I'm  sure  he  would,"  said  Fraser.     "  I  suppose 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  139 

there's  no  chance  of  his  having  been  picked  up.  I 
slung  a  life-belt  overboard." 

Captain  Barber  shook  his  head.  "  It's  a  mysteri- 
ous thing,"  he  said  slowly  ;  "  a  man  who'd  been  at 
sea  all  his  life  to  go  and  tumble  overboard  in  calm 
weather  like  that." 

"  There's  a  lot  that's  mysterious  about  it,  sir," 
said  Joe,  who  had  drawn  near,  followed  by  the 
others.  "  I  can  say  that,  because  I  was  on  deck 
only  a  few  minutes  before  it  happened." 

"  Pity  you  didn't  stay  up,"  said  Captain  Barber, 
ruefully. 

"  So  I  thought,  sir,"  said  Joe,  "  but  the  mate  saw 
me  on  deck  and  made  me  go  below.  Two  minutes 
afterwards  I  heard  a  splash,  and  the  skipper  was 
overboard." 

There  was  a  meaning  in  his  words  that  there  was 
no  mistaking.  The  old  man,  looking  round  at  the 
faces,  saw  that  the  mate's  was  very  pale. 

"  What  did  he  make  you  go  below  for  ?  "  he 
asked,  turning  to  Joe. 

"  Better  ask  him,  sir,"  replied  the  seaman.  "  I 
wanted  to  stay  up  on  deck,  but  I  'ad  to  obey  orders. 
If  I  'ad  stayed  on  deck,  he  wouldn't  have  been 
cap'n." 

Captain  Barber  turned  and   regarded   the  mate 


HO  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

fixedly  ;  the  mate,  after  a  vain  attempt  to  meet  his 
gaze,  lowered  his  eyes  to  the  deck. 

"  What  do  you  say  to  all  this  ?  "  enquired  Barber, 
slowly. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  the  mate.  "  I  did  send  Joe 
below  and  the  skipper  fell  overboard  a  minute  or 
two  afterwards.  It's  quite  true." 

"  Fell  ?  "  enquired  Captain  Barber. 

"  Fell,"  repeated  the  other,  and  looked  him 
squarely  in  the  eyes. 

For  some  time  Captain  Barber  said  nothing,  and 
the  men,  finding  the  silence  irksome,  shuffled  un- 
easily. 

"  Fred  saved  your  life  once,"  said  Barber,  at 
length. 

"  He  did,"  replied  Frasen 

The  old  man  turned  and  paced  slowly  up  and 
down  the  deck. 

"  He  was  my  sister's  boy,"  he  said,  halting  in 
front  of  the  mate,  "  but  he  was  more  like  my  son. 
His  father  and  mother  were  drownded  too,  but 
they  went  down  fair  and  square  in  a  gale.  He 
stuck  by  his  ship,  and  she  stuck  by  him,  God  bless 
her." 

Fraser  nodded. 

"  I'm  obliged  to  you  for  bringing  my  ship  from 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  141 

London,"  said  Barber,  slowly.  "  I  sha'n't  want  you 
to  take  'er  back.  I  sha'n't  want  you  to  stay  in  'er 
at  all.  I  don't  want  to  see  you  again." 

"That's  as  you  please,"  said  Fraser,  trying  to 
speak  unconcernedly.  "  It's  your  ship,  and  it's  for 
you  to  do  as  you  like  about  her.  I'll  put  my  things 
together  now." 

"You  don't  ask  for  no  reason?"  asked  Barber, 
eyeing  him  wistfully. 

The  other  shook  his  head.  "No,"  he  said, 
simply,  and  went  below. 

He  came  up  some  little  time  later  with  his 
belongings  in  a  couple  of  chests,  and,  the  men 
offering  no  assistance,  put  them  ashore  himself, 
and  hailing  a  man  who  was  sitting  in  a  cart  on  the 
quay,  arranged  with  him  to  convey  them  to  the 
station. 

"  Is  'e  to  be  let  go  like  this?  "  said  Joe,  hotly. 

"  Will  you  stop  me  ? "  demanded  Fraser,  chok- 
ing with  rage,  as  he  stepped  aboard  again. 

"  Joe,"  said  Ben,  sharply. 

The  seaman  glared  at  him  offensively. 

"  Go  for'ard, "  said  the  new  mate,  peremptorily, 
"  go  for'ard,  and  don't  make  yourself  so  busy." 

The  seaman,  helpless  with  rage,  looked  to  Cap- 
tain Barber  for  guidance,  and,  the  old  man  endorsing 


142  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

the  new  mate's  order,  went  forward,  indulging  in  a 
soliloquy  in  which  Ben  as  a  proper  noun  was  mixed 
up  in  the  company  of  many  improper  adjectives. 

Fraser,  clambering  into  the  cart,  looked  back  at 
the  Foam.  The  old  man  was  standing  with  his 
hands  clasped  behind  his  back  looking  down  on  the 
deck,  while  the  hands  stood  clumsily  by.  With  an 
idea  that  the  position  had  suddenly  become  intoler- 
able he  sat  silent  until  they  reached  the  station,  and 
being  for  the  first  time  for  many  months  in  the  pos- 
session of  a  holiday,  resolved  for  various  reasons  to 
pay  a  dutiful  visit  to  his  father  at  Bittlesea. 


CHAPTER    XL 

CAPTAIN  BARBER  walked  to  his  house  in  thought- 
ful mood,  and  sighed  as  he  thought  of  the  uncer- 
tainty of  life  and  the  futility  of  earthly  wishes.  The 
blinds  at  his  windows  were  all  decently  drawn,  while 
the  Union  Jack  drooped  at  half-mast  in  the  front 
garden.  He  paused  at  the  gate,  with  a  strong  dis- 
taste for  encountering  the  subdued  gloom  and  the 
wealth  of  womanly  love  which  awaited  him  indoors, 
and  bethinking  himself  of  the  masterless  state  of 
his  craft,  walked  slowly  back  and  entered  the  Thorn 
Inn. 

"  No  news,  I  suppose,  Captain  Barber  ?  "  said  the 
landlady,  regarding  him  with  great  sympathy. 

The  captain  shook  his  head,  and  exchanging  greet- 
ings with  a  couple  of  neighbours/ordered  something 
to  drink. 

**  It's  wonderful  how  you  bear  up,  I'm  sure,"  said 
the  landlady.  "  When  my  poor  dear  died  I  cried 
every  day  for  five  weeks.  I  came  down  to  skin  and 
bone  almost." 

"  Well,  if  I  was  you "  said  the  old   man,  irri- 


144  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

tably,  and  regarding  the  lady's  ample  proportions 
with  an  unfavourable  eye. 

"  What  ?  "  enquired  the  other,  pausing  with  her 
fingers  on  the  whisky-tap. 

"  If  I  was  you,"  repeated  Captain  Barber,  slowly, 
in  order  to  give  time  for  full  measure,  "  I  should  go 
an'  cry  for  five  months  all  day  and  all  night." 

The  landlady  put  the  glass  in  front  of  him  sharply, 
and  after  giving  him  his  change  without  looking  at 
him,  thoughtfully  wiped  down  the  counter. 

"Mrs.  Church  quite  well?"  she  enquired,  with 
studied  artlessness. 

"  Quite  well,"  replied  the  captain,  scenting  danger. 

The  landlady,  smiling  amiably,  subsided  into  a 
comfortable  Windsor-chair,  and  shook  her  head  at 
him  so  severely  that,  against  his  better  sense,  he  felt 
compelled  to  demand  an  explanation. 

"  There,  there,"  replied  the  landlady,  "  get  along 
with  you,  do !  Innocence !  " 

"  It's  no  good,  Cap'n  Barber,"  said  one  of  the  cus« 
tomers,  with  the  best  intentions  m  the  world. 

"  It  struck  me  all  of  a  heap,'  said  the  landlady. 

"  So  it  did  me,"  said  the  other  man. 

"  My  missus  knew  it  all  along,"  said  the  first  man , 
"  she  said  she  knew  it  by  the  way  they  looked  at 
one  another." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  145 

"  Might  I  ask  who  you're  talking  of  ?  "  demanded 
the  incensed  Barber,  who  had  given  up  the  effort  to 
appear  unconscious  as  being  beyond  his  powers. 

"A  young  engaged  couple,"  said  the  landlady. 

The  captain  hesitated.  "What  have  you  been 
shaking  your  head  at  me  and  telling  me  it's  no  good 
for,  then  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"At  your  pretending  not  to  have  heard  of  it," 
said  the  landlady. 

"  I  have  not  'eard  of  it,"  said  Captain  Barber, 
fiercely,  as  he  took  up  his  glass  and  walked  towards 
the  parlour.  "  I've  got  something  better  to  do  than 
talk  about  my  neighbours'  affairs." 

"  Yes,  of  course  you  have,"  said  the  landlady. 
"  We  know  that." 

The  indignant  Barber  closed  the  door  behind  him 
with  a  bang,  and,  excited  with  the  controversy,  re- 
turned  with  a  short  and  suspicious  nod  the  greeting 
of  a  small  man  of  shrunken  and  forlorn  aspect  who 
was  sitting  at  the  other  side  of  the  room. 

"  Mornin',  Cap'n  Nibletts,"  he  growled. 

"Mornin',  sir,"  said  Nibletts  ;  "  how's  things?" 

Captain  Barber  shook  his  head.  "  Bad  as  bad  can 
be/'  he  replied,  slowly ;  "  there's  no  hope  at  all. 
I'm  looking  for  a  new  master  for  my  vessel." 

Nibletts    looked  up  at    him    eagerly,  and    then 


146  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

looked  away  again.  His  last  command  had  hoisted 
the  green  flag  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  in  a  position 
which  claimed  attention,  respect,  and  profanity 
from  every  craft  which  passed,  its  master  having 
been  only  saved  from  the  traditional  death  of  the 
devoted  shipmaster  by  the  unpardonable  conduct 
of  the  mate,  who  tore  him  from  his  craft  by  the 
scruff  of  his  neck  and  the  seat  of  his  trousers. 

"What  about  Harris?"  he  suggested. 

"  I  don't  like  Harris's  ways,"  said  Barber,  slowly. 

"  Well,  what  about  Fletcher  ?  "  said  Nibletts. 

"  Fletcher's  ways  are  worse  than  wot  Harris's 
ways  are,"  commented  Captain  Barber. 

"  I  can  understand  you  being  careful,"  said  Captain 
Nibletts ;  "  she's  the  prettiest  little  craft  that  ever 
sailed  out  of  Seabridge.  You  can't  be  too  careful." 

"  If  things  'ad  been  different,"  said  the  gratified 
owner,  rolling  his  whisky  round  his  mouth  and 
swallowing  it  gently,  "  I'd  have  liked  you  to  have  *ad 
her." 

"  Thankee,"  said  Nibletts,  quietly. 

There  was  a  pause,  duiing  which  both  men  eyed 
the  noble  specimens  of  fish  which  are  preserved  for 
tavern  parlours.  Captain  Barber  took  another  sip 
of  whisky. 

"  I'm  going  to  use  my  own  judgment,  Nibletts," 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  147 

he  said  slowly.  "  I've  always  rose  superior  to  the 
opinions  of  other  people.  There's  nobody  you  know 
would  give  you  a  ship.  I'm  going  to  give  you  the 
Foam!  " 

Captain  Nibletts,  rising  from  his  seat,  crossed 
over,  and  taking  his  hand,  thanked  him  in  broken 
accents  for  this  overpowering  expression  of  con- 
fidence in  him.  Then  he  walked  back,  and  taking 
his  whisky  from  the  table,  threw  it  on  the  floor. 

*'  I've  had  enough  of  that,"  he  said  briefly. 
"  Whe£  am  I  to  take  her  over,  Cap'n  Barber?  " 

"  So  soon  as  ever  you  please,"  said  his  benefactor. 
"  Old  Ben'll  stay  on  as  mate  ;  Fraser's  gone." 

Captain  Nibletts  thanked  him  again,  and,  clap- 
ping on  his  hard  hat,  passed  hastily  into  the  bar, 
his  small  visage  twisted  into  a  smile,  to  which  it  had 
long  been  a  stranger.  With  the  customers  in  the 
bar  he  exchanged  remarks  of  so  frivolous  a  nature 
in  passing  that  the  landlady  nearly  dropped  the 
glass  she  was  wiping,  and  then,  crimson 'with  indig- 
nation, as  the  door  swung  behind  him,  realised  that 
the  melancholy  and  usually  respectful  Nibletts  had 
thought  fit  to  publicly  address  her  as  "  Gertie." 

In  the  same  high  spirits  the  new  master  swung 
hastily  down  the  road  to  his  new  command.  Work 
had  already  commenced,  and  the  energetic  Ben, 


148  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

having  been  pushed  over  once  by  a  set  of  goods  in 
the  slings  owing  to  the  frantic  attempts  of  the  men 
at  the  hand-crane  to  keep  pace  with  his  demands, 
.was  shouting  instructions  from  a  safe  distance.  He 
looked  round  as  Nibletts  stepped  aboard,  and,  with 
a  wary  eye  on  the  crane,  bustled  towards  him. 

"Wot  can  we  do  for  you,  Cap'n  Nibletts?"  he 
enquired,  with  a  patronising  air. 

"I'm  to  be  master,"  replied  the   other,  quietly. 

"  F<?#f"said  Ben,  with  offensive  astonishment, 
as  he  saw  the  death  of  his  own  ambitious  hopes  in 
that  quarter.  "  You  to  be  master?  " 

Nibletts  nodded  and  coloured.  "  Cap'n  Barber 
just  gave  me  the  berth,"  he  remarked. 

Ben  sighed  and  shook  his  head.  "  He'll  never  be 
the  same  man  ag'in,"  he  affirmed,  positively  ;  "  'e 
went  away  from  'ere  dazed,  quite  dazed.  'Ow  was 
'e  when  you  saw  'im  ?  " 

"  He  was  all  right,"  was  the  reply. 

Ben  shook  his  head  as  one  who  knew  better.  "  I 
'ope  he  won't  get  no  more  shocks,"  he  observed, 
gravely.  "  It'll  be  nice  for  you  to  get  to  sea  ag'in, 
Cap'n." 

Captain  Nibletts  raised  his  weather-beaten  coun- 
tenance and  sniffed  the  air  with  relish. 

"  You'll  be  able  to  see  the  Diadem  as  we  go  by," 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  149 

continued  the  sorely-aggravated  Ben.  "  There's 
just  her  masts  showing  at  'igh  water." 

A  faint  laugh  rose  from  somebody  in  the  hold, 
and  Nibletts,  his  face  a  dull  red,  stole  quietly  below 
and  took  possession  of  his  new  quarters.  In  the 
course  of  the  day  he  transferred  his  belongings  to 
the  schooner,  and,  as  though  half  fearful  that  his 
new  command  might  yet  slip  through  his  fingers, 
slept  on  board. 

On  the  way  back  to  London  a  sum  in  simple 
proportion,  set  by  Joe,  helped  to  exercise^the  minds 
of  the  crew  in  the  rare  intervals  which  the  new 
mate  allowed  them  for  relaxation:  "If  Ben  was 
bad  on  the  fust  v'y'ge,  and  much  wuss  on  the 
second,  wot  'ud  he  be  like  on  the  tenth  ? "  All 
agreed  that  the  answer  would  require  a  lot  of  work- 
ing. They  tarred  the  rigging,  stropped  the  blocks, 
and  in  monkey-like  attitudes  scraped  the  masts. 
Even  the  cook  received  a  little  instruction  in  his 
art,  and  estranged  the  affections  of  all  hands  by  a 
"  three-decker,"  made  under  Ben's  personal  super- 
vision. 

The  secret  society  discussed  the  matter  for  some 
time  in  vain.  The  difficulty  was  not  so  much  in  in- 
venting modes  of  retaliation  as  in  finding  some  bold 
spirit  to  carry  them  out.  In  vain  did  the  president 


ISO  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

allot  tasks  to  his  admiring  followers,  preceded  by 
excellent  reasons  why  he  should  not  perform  them 
himself.  The  only  one  who  showed  any  spirit  at 
all  was  Tim,  and  he,  being  ordered  to  spill  a  little 
tar  carelessly  from  aloft,  paid  so  much  attention  to 
the  adverb  that  Joe  half  killed  him  when  he  came 
down  again. 

Then  Mr.  William  Green,  having  learnt  that  the 
mate  was  unable  to  read,  did  wonders  with  a  piece  of 
chalk  and  the  frying  pan,  which  he  hung  barometer 
fashion  outside  the  galley  when  the  skipper  was 
below,  the  laughter  of  the  delighted  crew  bearing 
witness  to  the  success  of  his  efforts,  laughter  which 
became  almost  uncontrollable  as  the  mate,  with  as 
stately  an  air  as  he  could  assume,  strode  towards 
the  galley  and  brought  up  in  front  of  the  frying-pan. 

"  Wot's  all  that,  cook  ?  "  he  demanded,  pointing 
to  the  writing. 

"Wot,  sir?"  asked  the  innocent. 

"  On  the  frying-pan,"  replied  Ben,  scowling. 

"  That's  chalk-marks,"  explained  the  cook,  "  to 
clean  it  with." 

"  It  looks  to  me  like  writing,"  snapped  the  mate. 

"  Lor,  no,  sir,"  said  the  cook,  with  a  superior  smile. 

"  I  say  it  does,"  said  Ben,  stamping. 

"  Well,   o*  course   you  know  best,  sir,"  said  the 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  151 

cook,  humbly.  "  I  ain't  nothing  of  a  scholard  my- 
self. If  it's  writing,  wot  does  it  say,  please?  " 

"  I  don't  say  it  is  writing,"  growled  the  old  man. 
"  I  say  it  looks  like  it." 

"  I  can  assure  you  you're  mistook,  sir,"  said  the 
cook,  blandly;  "you  see,  I  clean  the  sorsepans  the 
same  way.  I  only  'card  of  it  lately.  Look  'ere." 

He  placed  the  articles  in  question  upside  down  in 
a  row  on  the  deck,  and  Tim,  reading  the  legends 
inscribed  thereon,  and  glancing  from  them  te  the 
mate,  was  hastily  led  below  in  an  overwrought  con- 
dition by  the  flattered  Mr.  Green. 

"  Cook,"  said  the  mate,  ferociously. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  other. 

"  I  won't  'ave   the  sorsepans  cleaned  that  way. 

"No,  sir,"  said  the  cook,  respectfully,  "  it  does 
make  'em  larf,  don't  it,  sir,  though  I  can't  see  wot 
they're  larfing  at  any  more  than  wot  you  can." 

The  mate  walked  off  fuming,  and  to  his  other 
duties  added  that  of  inspector  of  pots  and  pans,  a 
condition  of  things  highly  offensive  to  the  cook,  in- 
asmuch as  certain  culinary  arrangements  of  his,  only 
remotely  connected  with  cleanliness,  came  in  for 
much  unskilled  comment. 

The  overworked  crew  went  ashore  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment  after  their  arrival  in  London,  in 


152  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

search  of  recuperative  draughts.  Ben  watched 
them  a  trifle  wistfully  as  they  moved  off,  and  when 
Nibletts  soon  after  followed  their  example  without 
inviting  him  to  join  him  in  asocial  glass  of  superior 
quality,  smiled  mournfully  as  he  thought  of  the  dis- 
advantages of  rank. 

He  sat  for  some  time  smoking  in  silence,  monarch 
of  all  he  surveyed,  and  then,  gazing  abstractedly  at 
the  silent  craft  around  him,  fell  into  a  pleasant 
dream,  in  which  he  saw  himself  in  his  rightful  posi- 
tion as  master  of  the  Foam,  and  Nibletts,  cashiered 
for  drunkenness,  coming  to  him  for  employment  be- 
fore  the  mast.  His  meditations  were  disturbed  by 
a  small  piece  of  coal  breaking  on  the  deck,  at  which 
he  looked  lazily,  until,  finding  it  followed  by  two 
other  pieces,  he  reluctantly  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  they  were  intended  for  him.  A  fourth  piece, 
better  aimed,  put  the  matter  beyond  all  reasonable 
doubt,  and,  looking  up  sharply,  he  caught  the 
watchman  in  the  act  of  launching  the  fifth. 

"  Hullo,  old  'un,"  said  George,  cheerfully,  "  I 
thought  you  was  asleep." 

"You  thought  wrong,  then,"  said  the  mate, 
sourly  ;  "  don't  you  do  that  ag'in." 

"  Why,  did  I  'urt  you  ?  "  said  the  other,  surprised 
at  his  tone. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  153 

"  Next  time  you  want  to  chuck  coal  at  anybody," 
continued  Ben,  with  dignity,  "  pick  out  one  o'  the 
'ands;  mates  don't  like  'aving  coal  chucked  at  'em 
by  watchmen." 

"  Look  who  we  are,"  gasped  the  petrified  George. 
"  Look  who  we  are,"  he  repeated,  helplessly.  "  Look 
who  we  are." 

"  Keep  your  place,  watchman,"  said  the  mate, 
severely  ;  "  keep  your  place,  and  I'll  keep  mine." 

The  watchman  regarded  him  for  some  time  in 
genuine  astonishment,  and  then,  taking  his  old  seat 
on  the  post,  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and 
gave  utterance  to  this  shocking  heresy,  "  Mates  ain't 
nothing." 

"  You  mind  your  business,  watchman,"  said  the 
nettled  Ben,  "  and  I'll  mind  mine." 

"You  don't  know  it,"  retorted  the  other,  breath- 
ing heavily ;  "  be — sides,  you  don't  look  like  a 
mate.  I  wouldn't  chuck  coal  at  a  real  mate." 

He  said  no  more,  but  sat  gazing  idly  up  and 
down  the  river  with  a  face  from  which  all  expression 
had  been  banished,  except  when  at  intervals  his 
gaze  rested  upon  the  mate,  when  it  lit  up  with 
an  expression  of  wonder  and  joy  which  made  the 
muscles  ache  with  the  exercise. 

He  was  interrupted   in   this  amusement  by  the 


154  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

sound  of  footsteps  and  feminine  voices  behind  him; 
the  indefatigable  Tippings  were  paying  another  of 
their  informal  visits,  and,  calmly  ignoring  his  pres- 
ence, came  to  the  edge  of  the  jetty  and  discussed 
ways  and  means  of  boarding  the  schooner. 

"  Mr.  Fraser's  gone,"  said  the  watchman,  politely 
and  loudly,  "  there's  a  new  skipper  now,  and  that 
tall,  fine,  'andsome,  smart,  good-looking  young 
feller  down  there  is  the  new  mate.*' 

The  new  mate,  looking  up  fiercely,  acknowledged 
the  introduction  with  an  inhospitable  stare,  a  look 
which  gave  way  to  one  of  anxiety  as  Mrs.  Tipping, 
stepping  into  the  rigging,  suddenly  lost  her  nerve, 
and,  gripping  it  tightly,  shook  it  in  much  the  same 
fashion  as  a  stout  bluebottle  shakes  the  web  of  a 
spider. 

"  Hold  tight,  mar,"  cried  her  daughter,  excitedly. 

"  I  am,"  cried  Mrs.  Tipping.     "  Help  !  " 

The  watchman  stepped  into  the  rigging  beside 
her,  and  patted  her  soothingly  on  the  back ;  the 
mate,  coming  to  the  side,  took  her  foot  and  assisted 
her  to  reach  the  deck.  Miss  Tipping  followed,  and 
the  elder  lady,  after  recovering  from  the  shock 
caused  by  her  late  peril,  fell  to  discussing  the  eternal 
subject  of  Mr.  Robinson  with  the  new  mate. 

"  No,  I  never  see  'im,"  said  Ben,  thoughtfully ; 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  155 

"  I  never  heard  of  him  till  you  come  asking  arter 
•im." 

"  You  must  make  up  your  mind  he's  gone,"  said 
Mrs.  Tipping,  turning  to  her  daughter,  "  that's  what 
I  keep  telling  you.  I  never  was  so  tired  of  any- 
thing  in  my  life  as  tramping  down  here  night  after 
night.  It  ain't  respectable." 

"You  needn't  come,"  said  the  other,  dutifully. 
"  He  was  last  heard  of  on  this  ship,  and  where  else 
am  I  to  look  for  him  ?  You  said  you'd  like  to  find 
him  yourself." 

"  I  should,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping,  grimly  ;  "  I  should. 
Me  an'  him  are  to  have  a  little  talk,  if  ever  we  do 
meet." 

"  If  he  ever  comes  aboard  this  ship,"  said  the 
mate,  firmly,  "  I'll  tackle  him  for  you." 

"  Find  out  where  he  lives,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping, 
eagerly. 

"And  let  us  know,"  added  her  daughter,  giving 
him  a  card  ;  "  that's  our  address,  and  any  time 
you're  up  our  way  we  shall  be  very  pleased  to  see 
you,  Mr. " 

"  Brown,"  said  the  mate,  charmed  with  their 
manners.  "  Mr.  Brown." 

"  Ben,"  cried  a  voice  from  the  wharf. 

The  new  mate  gazed  austerely  at  the  small  office- 
boy  above. 


156  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  Letter  for  the  mate,"  said  the  youth,  who  was 
unversed  in  recent  history  ;  "  catch." 

He  pitched  it  to  the  deck  and  walked  off  whis- 
tling. There  was  only  one  mate  in  Ben's  world, 
and  he  picked  the  letter  up  and  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

"  Don't  mind  us,  if  you  want  to  read  it,"  said  Mrs. 
Tipping,  kindly. 

"  Only  business,  I  expect,"  said  Ben,  grandly. 

He  took  it  from  his  pocket,  and,  tearing  the 
envelope,  threw  it  aside  and  made  a  feint  of  reading 
the  contents. 

"  Not  bad  news,  I  hdpe  ? "  said  Mrs.  Tipping, 
noticing  his  wrinkled  brow. 

"  I  can't  read  without  my  glasses,"  said  the  mate, 
with  a  measure  of  truth  in  the  statement.  He 
looked  at  Mrs.  Tipping,  and  saw  a  chance  of  avoid- 
ing humiliation. 

"  P'r'aps  you'd  just  look  at  it  and  see  if  it's  im- 
portant," he  suggested. 

Mrs.  Tipping  took  the  letter  from  him,  and,  after 
remarking  on  the  strangeness  of  the  handwriting, 
read  aloud :  — 

"  DEAR  JACK  :— If  you  want  to  see  Mr.  Norton, 
come  to  10,  John  Street,  Walworth,  and  be  care- 
ful nobody  sees  you." 

"  Jack,"  said  the  mate,  stooping  for  the  envelope. 
"  Why  it  must  be  meant  for  Mr. — for  Jack  Fraser." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  157 

"Careful  nobody  sees  you,"  murmured  Miss  Tip- 
ping, excitedly,  as  she  took  the  envelope  from  the 
mate  ;  "  why,  the  address  is  printed  by  hand." 

Mother  and  daughter  looked  at  each  other.  It 
was  evident  that  their  thoughts  were  similar,  and 
that  one  could  have  known  them  without  the  ex- 
penditure of  the  proverbial  penny. 

"I'll  give  it  to  him  when  I  see  him/'  remarked 
Ben,  thrusting  the  letter  in  his  pocket.  "  It  don't 
seem  to  be  important.  He  ain't  in  London,  at 
present,  I  don't  think." 

"  I  shouldn't  think  it  was  important  at  all,"  said 
Mrs.  Tipping,  soothingly. 

"  Not  at  all,"  echoed  her  daughter,  whose  cheek 
was  burning  with  excitement.  "  Good-night,  Mr. 
Brown." 

Ben  bade  them  good-night,  and  in  his  capacity  of 
host  walked  up  the  wharf  with  them  and  saw  them 
depart. 

"  Nice  little  thing,  ain't  she  ?  "  said  the  watchman, 
who  was  standing  there,  after  Mrs.  Tipping  had 
bidden  the  mate  good-bye ;  "  be  careful  wot  you're 
a-doin1  of,  Ben.  Don't  go  and  spile  yourself  by  a 
early  marriage,  just  as  you're  a-beginning  to  get  on 
in  life.  Besides,  a  mate  might  do  better  than  that, 
and  she'd  only  marry  you  for  your  persition." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

IN  happy  ignorance  of  the  changes  caused  by  his 
sudden  and  tragic  end,  Captain  Flower  sat  at  the 
open  window  of  his  shabby  Walworth  lodging, 
smoking  an  after-breakfast  pipe,  and  gazing  idly  in- 
to the  dismal,  littered  yard  beneath.  Time — owing 
to  his  injured  foot,  which,  neatly  bandaged  at  a 
local  dispensary,  rested  upon  a  second  chair — hung 
rather  heavily  upon  his  hands  as  he  sat  thinking  of 
ways  and  means  of  spending  the  next  six  months 
profitably  and  pleasantly.  He  had  looked  at  the 
oleographs  on  the  walls  until  he  was  tired,  and  even 
the  marvels  of  the  wax  fruit  under  a  cracked  glass 
shade  began  to  pall  upon  him. 

"  I'll  go  and  stay  in  the  country  a  bit,"  he 
muttered  ;  "  I  shall  choke  here." 

He  took  a  slice  of  bread  from  the  tray,  and  break- 
ing  it  into  small  pieces,  began  to  give  breakfast  to 
three  hens  which  passed  a  precarious  existence  in 
the  yard  below. 

"  They  get  quite  to  know  you  now,"  said  the 
small  but  shrewd  daughter  of  the  house,  who  had 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  159 

come  in  to  clear  the  breakfast  things  away.  "  How'd 
you  like  your  egg  ?  " 

"  Very  good,"  said  Flower. 

"  It  was  new  laid,"  said  the  small  girl. 

She  came  up  to  the  window  and  critically  in- 
spected the  birds.  "  She  laid  it,"  she  said,  indicat- 
ing one  of  the  three. 

"  She's  not  much  to  look  at,"  said  Flower,  regard- 
ing the  weirdest-looking  of  the  three  with  some 
interest. 

"  She's  a  wonderful  layer,"  said  Miss  Chiffers, 
"  and  as  sharp  as  you  make  'em.  When  she's  in  the 
dust-bin  the  others  'ave  to  stay  outside.  They  can 
go  in  when  she's  'ad  all  she  wants." 

"  I  don't  think  I'll  have  any  more  eggs,"  said 
Flower,  casually.  "  I'm  eating  too  much.  Bacon'll 
do  by  itself." 

11  Please  yourself,"  said  Miss  Chiffers,  turning 
from  the  window.  "  How's  your  foot  ?  " 

"  Better,"  said  Flower. 

"  It's  swelled  more  than  it  was  yesterday,"  she 
said,  with  ill-concealed  satisfaction. 

"  It  feels  better,"  said  the  captain. 

"That's  'cos  it's  goin'  dead,"  said  the  damsel; 
"  then  it'll  go  black  all  up  your  leg,  and  then  you'll 
'ave  to  'ave  it  orf." 


160  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

Flower  grinned  comfortably. 

"  You  may  larf,"  said  the  small  girl,  severely ; 
*  but  you  won't  larf  when  you  lose  it,  an*  all  becos 
you  won't  poultice  it  with  tea  leaves." 

She  collected  the  things  together  on  a  tea  tray  of 
enormous  size,  and  holding  it  tightly  pressed  to 
her  small  waist,  watched  with  anxious  eyes  as  the 
heavy  articles  slowly  tobogganed  to  the  other  end. 
A  knife  fell  outside  the  door,  and  the  loaf,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation  which  nearly  upset  the  tray, 
jumped  over  the  edge  and  bounded  downstairs. 

Flower  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  and 
slowly  refilling  it,  began  to  peruse  the  morning 
paper,  looking  in  vain,  as  he  had  looked  each  morn- 
ing, for  an  account  of  his  death. 

His  reading  was  interrupted  by  a  loud  knock  at 
the  street  door,  and  he  threw  down  the  paper  to  be 
ready  to  receive  the  faithful  Fraser.  He  heard  the 
door  open,  and  then  the  violent  rushing  upstairs  of 
Miss  Chiffers  to  announce  his  visitor. 

"  Somebody  to  see  you,  Mr.  Norton/'  she  panted, 
bursting  into  the  room. 

"  Well,  show  him  up,"  said  Flower. 

"  All  of  'em  ?  "  demanded  Miss  Chiffers. 

"  Is  there  more  than  one?  "  enquired  Flower  in  a 
startled  voice. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  161 

"  Three,"  said  Miss  Chiffers,  nodding ;  "  two  gen- 
tlemen and  a  lady." 

"  Did  they  say  what  their  names  were  ?  "  enquired 
the  other,  turning  very  pale. 

Miss  Chiffers  shook  her  head,  and  then  stooped 
to  pick  up  a  hairpin.  "  One  of  'em's  called  Dick," 
she  said,  replacing  the  pin, 

"Tell  them  I'm  not  at  home,"  said  Flower, 
hastily,  "but  that  I  shall  be  back  at  twelve  o'clock. 
See?" 

He  produced  a  shilling,  and  the  small  girl,  with 
an  appreciative  nod,  left  the  room,  and  closed  the 
door  behind  her.  Flower,  suffering  severely  from 
nervous  excitement,  heard  a  discussion  in  the  pas- 
sage below,  and  then  sounds  of  a  great  multitude 
coming  upstairs  and  opening  various  doors  on  its 
way,  in  spite  of  the  indignant  opposition  afforded 
by  the  daughter  of  the  house. 

"  What's  in  here?  "  enquired  a  well-known  voice, 
as  a  hand  was  placed  on  his  door  handle. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Miss  Chiffers ;  "  'ere,  you  go 
away,  that's  my  bedroom.  Go  away,  d'you 
'ear?" 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  diminutive  scuffle  out- 
side, then  the  door  opened  and  a  smartly-dressed 
young  man,  regardless  of  the  fair  form  of  Miss 


162  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

Chiffers,  which  was  coiled  round  his  leg,  entered 
the  room. 

"  Why,  Dick,"  said  the  skipper,  rising,  "  Dick  ! 
Thank  goodness  it's  you." 

"  I've  no  doubt  you're  delighted,"  said  Mr.  Tip- 
ping, coldly.  "What  are  you  doing  with  that 
knife?" 

"  I  thought  it  was  somebody  else,"  said  Flower, 
putting  it  down.  "  I  thought  it  was  another 
attempt  on  my  life." 

Mr.  Tipping  coughed  behind  his  hand  and  mur- 
mured something  inaudibly  as  his  sister  entered  the 
room,  followed  by  the  third  member  of  the  party. 

"  Oh,  Fred ! "  she  said,  wildly,  "  I  wonder  you 
can  look  me  in  the  face.  Where  have  you  been  all 
this  time  ?  Where  have  you  been  ?" 

"  Give  the  man  time  to  think,"  said  her  brother, 
exchanging  a  glance  with  the  other  man. 

"  I've  been  everywhere,"  said  Flower,  facing 
them  defiantly.  "  I've  been  hunted  all  over  the 
country." 

"  But  where  did  you  go  when  you  left  me  that 
day  ?  "  enquired  Miss  Tipping. 

"  It's  a  long  story,"  said  Flower,  slowly.  "  But 
you  got  the  letter  I  wrote  you  ?  " 

Miss  Tipping  shook  her  head. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  163 

"You  didn't  get  it?"  said  Flower,  in  surprise. 
"  I  can't  think  what  you  must  have  thought  of 
me." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I  thought  of  you,  if  you'd  like 
to  know,"  interrupted  Mr.  Tipping,  eagerly. 

"  I  wrote  to  you  to  explain,"  said  Flower,  glibly, 
"  I  went  abroad  suddenly,  called  away  at  a  moment's 
notice." 

"  Special  trains  and  all  that  sort  o'  thing,  I 
&*pose,"  said  Mr.  Tipping,  with  interest. 

"  Dick,"  said  Miss  Tipping,  fiercely. 

"  Well,"  said  Dick,  gruffly. 

"  Hold  your  tongue." 

"  I've  not  had  any  real  sleep  since,"  said  Flower, 
pathetically,  "  what  with  the  danger  and  thinking 
of  you." 

"Why  didn't  you  write  again?"  enquired  Miss 
Tipping. 

"  I  asked  you  to  write  to  a  certain  address  in 
that  letter  I  sent  you,"  said  Flower,  "  and  when  I 
came  back  to  England  and  found  there  was  no  let- 
ter, I  concluded  that  you  couldn't  forgive  me." 

Miss  Tipping  looked  at  him  reproachfully,  but 
Mr.  Tipping,  raising  his  eyes,  gasped  for  air. 

"But  who  are  these  enemies?"  asked  Miss  Tip- 
ping, tenderly  drawing  closer  to  Flower. 


164  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"A  man  in  the  Government  service 

the  captain. 

He  broke  off  disdainfully  until  such  time  as  Mr. 
Tipping  should  have  conquered  a  somewhat  refrac- 
tory cough. 

"  In  the  secret  service,"  continued  Flower,  firmly, 
"  has  got  enemies  all  round  him." 

"  You'll  have  to  get  something  else  to  do  when 
,ve  are  married,  Fred,"  said  Miss  Tipping,  tearfully. 

"You've  forgiven  me,  then  ?"  said  Flower,  hop- 
ing that  he  had  concealed  a  nervous  start. 

"  I'd  forgive  you  anything,  Fred,"  said  Miss  Tip- 
ping, tenderly;  "you'll  have  to  give  up  this  job  at 
once." 

Captain  Flower  shook  his  head  and  smiled 
mournfully,  thereby  intimating  that  his  services 
were  of  too  valuable  a  nature  for  any  Government 
to  lightly  dispense  with. 

"  May  I  come  round  and  see  you  to-morrow  ?  " 
he  enquired,  putting  his  arm  about  the  lady's  waist. 

"Come  round  to-morrow?"  repeated  Miss  Tip- 
ping, in  surprise;  "why,  you  don't  think  I'm  going 
to  leave  you  here  surrounded  by  dangers  ?  You're 
coming  home  with  us  now." 

"  No,  to-morrow,"  said  the  unhappy  mariner  in  a 
winning  voice. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  165 

"  You  don't  go  out  of  my  sight  again,"  said  Miss 
Tipping,  firmly.  "Dick,  you  and  Fred  shake 
hands." 

The  two  gentlemen  complied.  Both  were  some- 
what proud  of  their  grip,  and  a  bystander  might 
have  mistaken  their  amiable  efforts  to  crush  each 
other's  fingers  for  the  outward  and  visible  signs  of 
true  affection. 

"  You'd  better  settle  up  here  now,  Fred,"  said 
Miss  Tipping. 

Flower,  putting  the  best  face  he  could  upon  it, 
assented  with  a  tender  smile,  and,  following  them 
downstairs,  held  a  long  argument  with  Mrs.  Chiffers 
as  to  the  amount  due,  that  lady  having  ideas  upon 
the  subject  which  did  more  credit  to  her  imagina- 
tion than  her  arithmetic. 

The  bill  was  settled  at  last,  and  the  little  party 
standing  on  the  steps  waited  for  the  return  of  Miss 
Chiffers,  who  had  been  dispatched  for  a  four-wheeler. 

"Oh,  what  about  your  luggage,  Fred  ?"  enquired 
Miss  Tipping,  suddenly. 

"  Haven't  got  any,"  said  Flower,  quickly.  "  I 
managed  to  get  away  with  what  I  stand  up  in,  and 
glad  to  do  that." 

Miss  Tipping  squeezed  his  arm  and  leaned 
heavily  upon  his  shoulder. 


166  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  I  was  very  lucky  to  get  off  as  I  did,"  continued 
the  veracious  mariner.  "  I  wasn't  touched  except 
for  a  rap  over  my  foot  with  the  butt-end  of  a 
revolver.  I  was  just  over  the  wall  in  time." 

"  Poor  fellow,"  said  Miss  Tipping,  softly,  as  she 
shivered  and  looked  up  into  his  face.  "  What  are 
you  grinning  at,  Dick?" 

"  I  s'pose  a  fellow  may  grin  if  he  likes,"  said  Mr. 
Tipping,  suddenly  becoming  serious. 

"  This  is  the  first  bit  of  happiness  I've  had  since 
I  saw  you  last,"  murmured  Flower. 

Miss  Tipping  squeezed  his  arm  again. 

"  It  seems  almost  too  good  to  be  true,"  he  con- 
tinued.  "  I'm  almost  afraid  I  shall  wake  up  and 
find  it  all  a  dream." 

"  Oh,  you're  wide-awake  enough,"  said  Mr.  Tip- 
ping. 

"  Wide-awake  ain't  the  word  for  it,"  said  thk 
other  gentleman,  shaking  his  head. 

"  Uncle,"  said  Miss  Tipping,  sharply. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,"  said  the  other,  uneasily. 

"  Keep  your  remarks  for  those  that  like  them,'* 
said  his  dutiful  niece,  "  or  else  get  out  and  walk." 

Mr.  Porson,  being  thus  heckled,  subsided  into 
defiant  mutterings,  intended  for  Dick  Tipping's  ear 
alone,  and  the  remainder  of  the  drive  to  Chelsea 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  167 

passed  almost  in  silence.  Arrived  at  the  Blue  Posts, 
Flower  got  out  with  well-simulated  alacrity,  and 
going  into  the  bar,  shook  hands  heartily  with  Mrs. 
Tipping  before  she  quite  knew  what  he  was  doing. 

"  You've  got  him,  then,"  she  said,  turning  to  her 
daughter,  "  and  now  I  hope  you're  satisfied.  Don't 
stand  in  the  bar ;  I  can't  say  what  I  want  to  say  here 
— come  in  the  parlour  and  shut  the  door." 

They  followed  the  masterful  lady  obediently  into 
the  room  indicated. 

"And  now,  Mr.  Robinson,"  she  said,  with  her 
hands  on  her  hips,  "  now  for  your  explanation." 

"  I  have  explained  to  Matilda,"  said  Flower,  wav- 
ing his  hand. 

"That's  quite  right,  mar,"  said  Miss  Tipping» 
nodding  briskly. 

"  He's  had  a  dreadful  time,  poor  feller,"  said 
Dick  Tipping,  unctuously.  "  He's  been  hunted  all 
over  England  by — who  was  it,  Mister  Robinson  ?  " 

"  The  parties  I'm  working  against,"  said  Flower, 
repressing  his  choler  by  a  strong  effort. 

"  The  parties  he's  working  against,"  repeated  Mr. 
Tipping. 

"  Somebody  ought  to  talk  to  them  parties,"  said 
Mr.  Person,  speaking  with  much  deliberation,  "that 
is,  if  they  can  find  'em." 


168  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  They  want  looking  after,  that's  what  they  want," 
said  Dick  Tipping,  with  a  leer. 

"  It's  all  very  well  for  you  to  make  fun  of  it," 
said  Mrs.  Tipping,  raising  her  voice.  "  I  like  plain, 
straightforward  dealing  folk  myself.  I  don't  under- 
stand  nothing  about  your  secret  services  and  Gov- 
ernments and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  Mr.  Robinson, 
have  you  come  back  prepared  to  marry  my  daugh- 
ter ?  Because,  if  you  ain't,  we  want  to  know  why 
not." 

"  Of  course  I  have,"  said  Flower,  hotly.  "  It's 
the  dearest  wish  of  my  life.  I  should  have  come 
before,  only  I  thought  when  she  didn't  answer  my 
letter  that  she  had  given  me  up." 

"  Where  'ave  you  been,  and  what's  it  all  about  ?*' 
demanded  Mrs.  Tipping. 

"  At  present,"  said  Flower,  with  an  appearance  of 
great  firmness,  "  I  can't  tell  you.  I  shall  tell 
Matilda  the  day  after  we're  married — if  she'll  still 
trust  me  and  marry  me — and  you  shall  all  know  as 
soon  as  we  think  it's  safe." 

"  You  needn't  say  another  word,  mar,"  said  Miss 
Tipping,  warningly. 

"  I'm  sure,"  said  the  elder  lady,  bridling.  "  Per- 
haps your  uncle  would  like  to  try  and  reason  with 
you." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  169 

Mr.  Person  smiled  in  a  sickly  fashion,  and  cleared 
his  throat. 

"  You  see,  my  dear "  he  began. 

"Your  tie's  all  shifted  to  one  side,"  said  his 
niece,  sternly,  "  and  the  stud's  out  of  your  button- 
hole. I  wish  you'd  be  a  little  tidier  when  you  come 
here,  uncle ;  it  looks  bad  for  the  house." 

"  I  came  away  in  a  hurry  to  oblige  you,"  said  Mr. 
Person.  "  I  don't  think  this  is  a  time  to  talk  about 
button-holes." 

"  I  thought  you  were  going  to  say  something," 
retorted  Miss  Tipping,  scathingly,  "  and  you  might 
as  well  talk  about  that  as  anything  else." 

44  It  ain't  right,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping,  breaking  in, 
u  that  you  should  marry  a  man  you  don't  know  any- 
thing about ;  that's  what  I  mean.  That's  only  rea- 
sonable, I  think." 

"  It's  quite  fair,"  said  Flower,  trying  hard  to  speak 
reluctantly.  "  Of  course,  if  Matilda  wishes,  I'm  quite 
prepared  to  go  away  now.  I  don't  wish  her  to  tie 
herself  up  to  a  man  who  at  present,  at  any  rate,  has 
to  go  about  wrapped  in  a  mystery." 

"All  the  same,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping,  with  a  gleam 
in  her  eyes,  "  I'm  not  going  to  have  anybody  playing 
fast  and  loose  with  my  daughter.  She's  got  your 
ring  on  her  finger.  You're  engaged  to  be  married 


1 70  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

to  her,  and  you  mustn't  break  it  off  by  running  away 
or  anything  of  that  kind.  If  she  likes  to  break  it 
off,  that's  a  different  matter.  " 

"  I'm  not  going  to  break  it  off,"  said  Miss  Tipping, 
fiercely ;  "  I've  made  all  the  arrangements  in  my  own 
mind.  We  shall  get  married  as  soon  as  we  can,  and 
I  shall  put  Dick  in  here  as  manager,  and  take  a  nice 
little  inn  down  in  the  country  somewhere." 

"  Mark  my  words,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping,  solemnly, 
"  you'll  lose  him  again." 

"  If  I  lose  him  again,"  said  Miss  Tipping,  dramatic- 
ally, "  if  he's  spirited  away  by  these  people,  or  any- 
thing happens  to  him,  Dick  won't  be  manager  here. 
Uncle  Porson  will  have  as  much  drink  and  as  many 
cigars  as  he  pays  for,  and  Charlie  will  find  another 
berth. " 

"  Nobody  shall  hurt  a  hair  of  his  head,"  said  Mr. 
Tipping,  with  inimitable  pathos. 

"  He  must  be  protected  against  hisself,"  said  Mr. 
Porson,  spitefully  ;  "  that's  the  'ardest  part.  He's  a 
man  what  if  'e  thinks  it's  his  dooty  '11  go  away  just 
as  'e  did  before." 

"Well  if  he  gets  away  from  Charlie,"  said  Mr. 
Tipping,  "he'll  be  cute.  There's  one  thing,  Mr. 
Robinson :  if  you  try  to  get  away  from  those  who 
love  you  and  are  looking  after  you,  there'll  be  a 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  171 

fight  first,  then  there'll  be  a  police  court  fuss,  and 
then  we  shall  find  out  what  the  Government  mean 
by  it." 

Captain  Flower  sat  down  in  an  easy  posture  as 
though  he  intended  a  long  stay,  and  in  a  voice  broken 
with  emotion  murmured  something  about  home, 
and  rest,  and  freedom  from  danger. 

"  That's  just  it,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping,  "  here  you  are, 
and  here  you'll  stay.  After  you're  married,  it'll  be 
Matilda's  affair ;  and  now  let's  have  some  tea." 

"  First  of  all,  mar,  kiss  Fred,"  said  Miss  Tipping, 
who  had  been  eyeing  her  parent  closely. 

Mrs.  Tipping  hesitated,  but  the  gallant  captain, 
putting  a  good  face  on  it,  sprang  up  and,  passing  his 
arm  about  her  substantial  waist,  saluted  her,  after 
which,  as  a  sort  of  set-off,  he  kissed  Miss  Tipping. 

"  I  can  only  say,"  he  said  truthfully,  "  that  this 
kindness  hurts  me.  The  day  I'm  married  I'll  tell 
you  all." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

IN  happy  ignorance  that  the  late  master  of  the 
Foam  had  secured  a  suite  of  rooms  at  the  Blue 
Posts  Hotel,  the  late  mate  returned  to  London  by 
train  with  a  view  of  getting  into  communication 
with  him  as  soon  as  possible.  The  delay  occasioned 
by  his  visit  to  Bittlesea  was  not  regretted,  Mr. 
Fraser  senior  having  at  considerable  trouble  and 
expense  arranged  for  him  to  take  over  the  Swallow 
at  the  end  of  the  week. 

Owing  to  this  rise  in  his  fortune  he  was  in  fairly 
good  spirits,  despite  the  slur  upon  his  character, 
as  he  made  his  way  down  to  the  wharf.  The  hands 
had  knocked  off  work  for  the  day,  and  the  crew  of 
the  schooner,  having  finished  their  tea,  were  sprawl- 
ing in  the  bows  smoking  in  such  attitudes  of 
unstudied  grace  as  best  suited  the  contours  of  their 
figures.  Joe  looked  up  as  he  approached,  and 
removing  his  pipe  murmured  something  inaudible 
to  his  comrades. 

"The  mate's  down  below,  sir,"  said  Mr.  William 
Green  in  reply  to  Fraser.  "  I  shall  be  pleased  to 
fetch  him." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  173 

He  walked  aft  and  returned  shortly,  followed  by 
Ben,  who,  standing  stiffly  before  his  predecessor, 
listened  calmly  to  his  eager  enquiry  about  his  letter. 

"No,  there's  been  nothing  for  you,"  he  said, 
slowly.  He  had  dropped  the  letter  overboard  as 
the  simplest  way  of  avoiding  unpleasantness. 
"  Was  you  expecting  one  ?  " 

Fraser,  gazing  blankly  at  him,  made  no  reply, 
being  indeed  staggered  by  the  thoroughness  with 
which  he  imagined  the  wily  Flower  was  playing  his 
part. 

41  He's  going  to  be  lost  his  full  six  months,  that's 
evident,"  he  thought,  in  consternation.  "  He  must 
have  seen  the  way  I  should  be  affected ;  it  would 
serve  him  right  to  tell  the  whole  thing  right  away 
to  Captain  Barber." 

"  If  anything  does  come  I'll  send  it  on  to  you," 
said  Ben,  who  had  been  watching  him  closely. 

"Thanks,"  said  Fraser,  pondering,  and  walked 
away  with  his  eyes  on  the  ground.  He  called  in  at 
the  office  as  he  passed  it;  the  staff  had  gone,  but 
the  letter-rack  which  stood  on  the  dusty,  littered 
mantel-piece  was  empty,  and  he  went  into  the  street 
again. 

His  programme  for  the  evening  thus  suddenly 
arrested,  he  walked  slowly  up  Tower  Hill  into  the 


i/4  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

Minories,  wondering  what  to  do  with  himself. 
Something  masquerading  as  a  conscience  told  him 
severely  that  he  ought  to  keep  his  promise  to  the 
errant  Flower  and  go  and  visit  Poppy ;  conscience 
without  any  masquerading  at  all  told  him  he  was  a 
humbug,  and  disclaimed  the  responsibility.  In  the 
meantime,  he  walked  slowly  in  the  direction  of 
Poplar,  and  having  at  length  made  up  a  mind  which 
had  been  indulging  in  civil  war  all  the  way,  turned 
up  Liston  Street  and  knocked  at  the  Wheelers' 
door. 

A  murmur  of  voices  from  the  sitting-room 
stopped  instantly.  A  double  knock  was  a  rare 
occurrence  on  that  door,  and  was  usually  the  pre- 
lude to  the  sudden  disappearance  of  the  fairer 
portion  of  the  family,  while  a  small  boy  was  told 
off  to  answer  it,  under  dire  penalties  if  he  officiated 
too  soon. 

This  evening,  however,  the  ladies  had  made  their 
toilet,  and  the  door  was  opened  after  a  delay  merely 
sufficient  to  enable  them  to  try  and  guess  the 
identity  of  the  guest  before  the  revelation.  Poppy 
Tyrell  opened  it,  and  turned  upon  him  eyes  which 
showed  the  faintest  trace  of  surprise. 

"  Good  evening/'  said  Fraser,  holding  out  his 
hand. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  175 

"  Good  evening,"  said  the  girl. 

"Fine  weather  we're  having,"  said  the  embar- 
rassed ex-mate,  "  for  June,"  he  added,  in  justifica- 
tion of  the  remark. 

Miss  Tyrell  assented  gravely,  and  stood  there 
waiting. 

It  is  probable  that  two  members  at  least  of  the 
family  would  have  been  gratified  by  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  caller  then  and  there,  but  that  Mr. 
Wheeler,  a  man  of  great  density  and  no  tact  what- 
ever, came  bustling  out  into  the  passage,  and  having 
shaken  hands  in  a  hearty  fashion,  told  him  to  put 
his  hat  on  a  nail  and  come  in. 

"  No  news  of  the  cap'n,  I  suppose  ?  "  he  asked, 
solemnly,  after  Fraser  was  comfortably  seated. 

"  Not  a  word,  "  was  the  reply. 

The  dock-foreman  sighed  and  shook  his  head  as 
he  reflected  on  the  instability  of  human  affairs. 
"There's  no  certainty  about  anything,"  he  said, 
slowly.  "  Only  yesterday  I  was  walking  down  the 
Commercial  Road,  and  I  slipped  orf  the  curb  into 
the  road  before  you  could  say  Jack  Robinson." 

"  Nearly  run  over  ?  "  queried  Fraser. 

Mr.  Wheeler  shook  his  head.  "  No,  "  he  said, 
quietly. 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  "  enquired  his  son. 


i;6  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  It  might  just  as  well  have  been  the  edge  of  the 
dock  as  the  curb ;  that's  what  I  mean,"  said  Mr. 
Wheeler,  with  a  gravity  befitting  his  narrow  escape. 

"  I'm  alwis  telling  you  not  to  walk  on  the  edge, 
father,"  said  his  wife,  uneasily. 

The  dock-foreman  smiled  faintly.  "  Dooty  must 
be  done,"  he  said,  in  a  firm  voice.  "  I'm  quite  pre- 
pared, my  life's  insured,  and  I'm  on  the  club,  and 
some  o'  the  children  are  getting  big  now,  that's  a 
comfort." 

A  feeling  of  depression  settled  on  all  present,  and 
Augustus  Wheeler,  aged  eight,  having  gleaned  from 
the  conversation  that  his  sire  had  received  instruc- 
tions, which  he  intended  promptly  to  obey,  to  fall 
into  the  dock  forthwith,  suddenly  opened  his  mouth 
and  gave  vent  to  his  affection  and  despair  in  a 
howl  so  terrible  that  the  ornaments  on  the  mantel- 
piece shook  with  it. 

"  Don't  scold  'im,"  said  the  dock-foreman,  ten- 
derly, as  Mrs.  Wheeler's  thin,  shrill  voice  entered 
into  angry  competition  with  the  howl ;  '*  never 
mind,  Gussie,  my  boy,  never  mind." 

This  gentleness  had  no  effect,  Gussie  continuing 
to  roar  with  much  ardour,  but  watching  out  of  the 
corner  of  one  tear-suffused  eye  the  efforts  of  hi§ 
eldest  sister  to  find  her  pocket, 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT  177 

"  Hold  your  noise  and  I'll  give  you  a  ha'penny," 
she  said,  tartly. 

Gussie  caught  his  breath  with  a  sob,  but  kept 
steam  up,  having  on  some  similar  occasions  been 
treated  with  more  diplomacy  than  honesty.  But 
to-day  he  got  the  half-penny,  together  with  a  penny 
from  the  visitor,  and,  having  sold  his  concern  in  his 
father  for  three  halfpence,  gloated  triumphantly  in 
a  corner  over  his  envious  peers. 

"  Death,"  said  Mr.  Wheeler,  slowly,  after  silence 
had  been  restored,  "  is  always  sudden.  The  most 
sudden  death  I  knew  'appened  to  a  man  who'd  been 
dying  for  seven  years.  Nobody  seemed  to  be  able 
to  believe  he'd  gone  at  last." 

"  It's  a  good  job  he  wasn't  married,"  said  Mrs. 
Wheeler,  raising  herself  on  her  elbow ;  "  sailors  'ave 
no  right  to  marry  at  all.  If  I  thought  that  one  'o 
my  gals  was  goin*  to  marry  a  sailor,  I  don't  know 
what  I  shouldn't  do.  Something  steady  on  shore  is 
the  thing." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  tactless  Mr.  Wheeler. 
"  I  think  if  I  was  a  gal  I  should  like  to  marry  a 
sailor;  there's  something  romantic  about  them.  I 
often  wish  I'd  been  a  sailor.' 

"  Then  you  wouldn't  'ave  'ad  me,"  said  the  lady 
from  the  sofa,  grimly. 


i;8  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

Mr.  Wheeler  sighed,  but  whether  at  the  thought 
of  what  he  might  have  lost  or  what  he  had  gained, 
cannot  be  safely  determined.  Still  in  a  morbid 
mood,  he  relapsed  into  silence,  leaving  Fraser  to 
glance  anxiously  to  where  Poppy,  pale  and  pretty, 
sat  listening  to  the  clumsy  overtures  of  Mr.  Bob 
Wheeler. 

"  I  might  'ave  'ad  two  or  three  sailors  if  I'd 
liked,"  continued  Mrs.  Wheeler,  musingly,  "  but  I 
wouldn't." 

Fraser  murmured  his  admiration  at  her  firmness. 

"  There  was  Tom  Rogers,  'e  was  the  first,"  said 
Mrs.  Wheeler ;  "  you  remember  'im,  father  ?  " 

"  Chap  with  bow  legs  and  a  squint,  wasn't  he  ?  " 
said  the  dock-foreman,  anxious  to  please. 

"  I  never  saw  'im  squint,"  said  his  wife,  sharply. 
"  Then  there  was  Robert  Moore — he  was  number 
two,  I  think." 

"  'Ad  a  wife  a'ready,"  said  Mr.  Wheeler,  turning 
to  the  visitor ;  '*  'e  was  a  bright  lot,  'e  was." 

"  I  don't  know  what  they  saw  in  me,  I'm  sure," 
said  Mrs.  Wheeler,  with  a  little  modest  laugh  ;  "  it 
wasn't  my  good  looks,  I'm  sure." 

"  You  'ad  something  better  than  good  looks,  my 
dear,"  said  the  dock-foreman,  affectionately,  "  some- 
thing what's  wore  better." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  179 

Mrs.  Wheeler  turned  on  the  sofa,  and  detecting 
Gussie  in  the  act  of  using  his  mouth  as  a  money- 
box, upbraided  him  shrilly  and  sent  him  into  a 
corner.  She  then  brought  sundry  charges  of 
omission  and  commission  against  the  other  children, 
until  the  air  was  thick  with  denials  and  explanations, 
in  the  midst  of  which  Fraser  turned  towards  Poppy. 

"  I  want  to  have  a  few  minutes'  talk  with  you, 
Miss  Tyrell,"  he  said,  nervously. 

The  girl  looked  up  at  him.  "  Yes,"  she  said, 
gravely. 

"  I  mean  alone,"  continued  the  other,  marvelling 
at  his  hardihood  ;  "  it's  private." 

He  lowered  his  voice  from  a  shout  to  its  normal 
tone  as  Emma  Wheeler  in  self-defence  opened  the 
door  and  drove  the  small  fry  out. 

'*  I've  not  got  my  rooms  now,"  said  the  girl, 
quietly. 

"  Well,  my  dear "  began  the  dock-foreman. 

"  Don't  interfere,  father,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler  some- 
what sharply.  "  I'm  sure  Mr.  Fraser  needn't  mind 
saying  anything  before  us.  It's  nothing  he's 
ashamed  of,  I'm  sure." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Fraser,  sternly,  "  but  it's 
quite  private  for  all  that.  Will  you  put  your  hat 
on  and  come  out  a  little  way,  Miss  Tyrell?  " 


180  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  That  I'm  sure  she  won't,"  said  the  energetic 
Mrs.  Wheeler.  "  She's  .that  particular  she  won't 
even  go  out  with  Bob,  and  they're  like  brother  and 
sister  almost.  Will  she,  Bob  ?  " 

Mr.  Bob  Wheeler  received  the  appeal  somewhat 
sullenly,  and  in  a  low  voice  requested  his  parent 
not  to  talk  so  much.  Fraser,  watching  Poppy 
closely,  saw  with  some  satisfaction  a  tinge  of  colour 
in  her  cheek,  and  what  in  any  other  person  he 
would  have  considered  a  very  obstinate  appearance 
about  her  shapely  chin. 

"  I'll  get  my  hat  on,  if  you'll  wait  a  minute,"  she 
said,  quietly. 

She  rose  and  went  upstairs,  and  Fraser  with  a 
cheerful  glance  at  Mrs.  Wheeler  entered  into  con- 
versation with  her  husband  about  overside  work  in 
the  docks,  until  the  door  was  pushed  open  a  little 
to  reveal  Miss  Tyrell  ready  for  walking. 

They  walked  on  for  some  little  time  in  silence. 
The  sun  had  set,  and  even  in  the  close  streets  of 
Poplar  the  evening  air  was  cool  and  refreshing. 
When  this  fact  had  thoroughly  impressed  itself  on 
Mr.  Fraser's  mind  he  communicated  it  to  Miss 
Tyrell. 

"  It's  very  pleasant,"  she  answered,  briefly. 
"  What  was  it  you  wanted  to  talk  to  me  about?  " 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  181 

"About  a  lot  of  things,"  said  Fraser.  "  What  a 
tremendous  lot  of  children  there  are  about  here.'* 

Miss  Tyrell  coldly  admitted  an  obvious  fact,  and 
stepping  out  into  the  road  to  avoid  spoiling  a  small 
maiden's  next  move  at  "  hop  scotch,"  returned  to 
the  pavement  to  listen  to  a  somewhat  lengthy  dis- 
sertation upon  the  game  in  question. 

"  What  did  you  want  to  say  to  me?  "  she  asked 
at  length,  turning  and  regarding  him. 

"  In  the  first  place,"  said  Fraser,  "  I  wanted  to 
tell  you  that,  though  nothing  has  been  heard  of 
Captain  Flower,  I  feel  certain  in  my  own  mind  that 
he  has  not  been  drowned." 

Miss  Tyrell  shook  her  head  slowly. 

"Then  I  ought  to  tell  you  that  I  have  left  the 
Foam!'  continued  the  other.  "  I  think  that  there  is 
some  idea  that  I  knocked  Flower  overboard  to  get 
his  place." 

The  girl  turned  quickly,  and  her  face  flushed. 
"  How  absurd,"  she  said,  indignantly,  and  her  man- 
ner softened. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Fraser.  "  If  you  don't  believe 
it,  I  don't  care  what  anybody  else  thinks." 

Miss  Tyrell,  looking  straight  in  front  of  her,  stole 
a  glance  at  this  easily  satisfied  young  man  from  the 
corner  of  her  eye.  "  I  should  never  expect  to  hear 


182  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

of  you  doing  anything  wicked,"  she  said.  Fraser 
thanked  her  again,  warmly.  "Or  venturesome," 
added  Miss  Tyrell,  thoughtfully.  "  You're  not  the 
kind." 

They  walked  on  in  silence ;  indignant  silence  on 
the  part  of  the  ex-mate. 

"  Then  you  are  out  of  a  berth  ?  "  said  Poppy,  not 
unkindly. 

Fraser  shook  his  head  and  explained.  "  And  I 
told  my  father  about  you,"  he  added,  nervously. 
"  He  knew  Flower  very  well,  and  he  told  me  to  say 
that  he  would  be  very  pleased  and  proud  if  you 
would  come  down  and  stay  with  him  at  Bittlesea 
for  a  time." 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  Miss  Tyrell. 

"The  air  would  do  you  good,"  persisted  Fraser; 
"you  could  come  down  by  train  or  come  down  with 
me  on  the  Swallow  next  week." 

Miss  Tyrell  repeated  her  refusal.  "  I  must  stay 
in  London  and  get  something  else  to  do,"  she  said, 
quietly. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  doing?"  enquired  Fraser. 

"Anything  I  can  get,"  was  the  reply. 

"And  in  the  meantime "  he  began,  nervously. 

"  In  the  meantime  I'm  living  on  the  Wheelers," 
said  the  girl,  pressing  her  lips  together  ;  "  that  was 
what  you  were  going  to  say,  wasn't  it?" 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  183 

"  I  was  not  going  to  say  anything  of  the  kind," 
said  Fraser,  warmly.  "  I  was  not  thinking  of  it." 

"Well,  it's  true,"  said  Poppy,  defiantly. 

"  It  isn't  true,"  said  Fraser,  "  because  you  will  pay 
them  back." 

"  Shall  we  turn  back?  "  said  the  girl. 

Fraser  turned  and  walked  beside  her,  and,  glan- 
cing furtively  at  the  pale,  proud  face,Vondered  how 
to  proceed. 

"  I  should  be  delighted  if  you  would  come  to  Bit- 
tlesea,"  he  said,  earnestly,  "and  I'm  sure  if  Flower 
should  ever  turn  up  again,  he  would  say  it  was  the 
best  thing  you  could  have  done." 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  prefer  to  stay  here,"  was  the 
reply,  "and  I  don't  wish  to  be  ungrateful,  but  I 
wish  that  people  would  not  trouble  me  with  their 
charity." 

She  walked  on  in  silence,  with  her  face  averted, 
until  they  reached  Liston  Street,  and,  stopping  at 
the  door,  turned  to  bid  him  good-bye.  Her  'face 
softened  as  she  shook  hands,  and  in  the  depths  of 
her  dark  eyes  as  they  met  his  he  fancied  that  he 
saw  a  little  kindness.  Then  the  door  opened,  and, 
before  he  could  renew  his  invitation,  closed  behind 
her  as  rapidly  as  Mr.  Bob  Wheeler  could  perform 
the  feat. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

WHEN  the  tide  is  up  and  the  sun  shining,  Sea- 
bridge  has  attractions  which  make  the  absence  of 
visitors  something  of  a  marvel  to  the  inhabitants. 
A  wandering  artist  or  two,  locally  known  as  "  painter- 
chaps,"  certainly  visit  it,  but  as  they  usually  select 
subjects  for  their  canvases  of  which  the  progressive 
party  of  the  town  are  heartily  ashamed,  they  are 
regarded  as  spies  rather  than  visitors,  and  are  tol- 
erated rather  than  welcomed.  To  a  citizen  who  has 
for  a  score  of  years  regretted  the  decay  of  his  town, 
the  spectacle  of  a  stranger  gloating  over  its  ruins 
and  perpetuating  them  on  canvas  is  calculated  to 
excite  strong  doubts  as  to  his  mental  capacity  and 
his  fitness  to  be  at  large. 

On  a  summer's  evening,  when  the  tide  is  out  and 
the  high  ground  the  other  side  of  the  river  is  assum- 
ing undefinable  shadows,  the  little  town  has  other 
charms  to  the  meditative  man.  Such  life  as  there 
is,  is  confined  to  the  taverns  and  the  two  or  three 
narrow  little  streets  which  comprise  the  town.  The 
tree-planted  walk  by  the  river  is  almost  deserted, 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  185 

and  the  last  light  of  the  dying  day  is  reflected  in 
the  pools  and  mud  left  by  the  tide. 

Captain  Nibletts,  slowly  pacing  along  and  smok- 
ing his  pipe  in  the  serenity  of  the  evening,  felt 
these  things  dimly.  His  gaze  wandered  from  a 
shadowy  barge  crawling  along  in  mid-channel  to  the 
cheery  red  blind  of  Boatman's  Arms,  and  then  to  the 
road  in  search  of  Captain  Barber,  for  whom  he  had 
been  enquiring  since  the  morning.  A  stout  lady 
stricken  in  years  sat  on  a  seat  overlooking  the 
river,  and  the  mariner,  with  a  courteous  salutation, 
besought  her  assistance. 

"I've  been  looking  for  him  myself,"  said  Mrs. 
Banks,  breathlessly,  "  and  now  my  Elizabeth's  no- 
where to  be  found.  She's  been  out  since  two 
o'clock  this  afternoon." 

Nibletts  pointed  up  the  road  with  his  pipe.  "  I 
see  her  only  ten  minutes  ago  with  young  Gibson," 
he  said,  slowly. 

"  Which  way  was  they  going?  "  demanded  the  old 
lady,  rising. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Nibletts.  "  I  don't  think 
they  knew  either  an*  what's  more,  I  don't  think 
they  cared." 

The  old  lady  resumed  her  seat,  and,  folding  her 
hands  in  her  lap,  gazed  in  a  troubled  fashion  across 


186  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

the  river,  until  the  figure  of  another  woman  com- 
ing  along  the  walk  brought  her  back  to  every-day 
affairs. 

"  Why,  it's  Mrs.  Church,"  said  Nibletts.  "  He's 
nowhere  to  be  found,"  he  shouted,  before  she 
reached  them. 

"  He  ?  "  said  the  widow,  slowly.    «  Who  ?  " 

"  Cap'n  Barber,"  replied  the  mariner. 

"  Oh,  indeed,"  she  said,  politely.  "  Good  even- 
ing, Mrs.  Banks." 

Mrs.  Banks  returned  the  courtesy.  "It  looks 
as  though  Cap'n  Barber  has  run  away,"  she  said, 
with  attempted  jocularity. 

Mrs.  Church  smiled  a  superior  smile.  "  He  is  not 
far  off,"  she  said,  quietly. 

"Resting,  I  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Banks,  with 
intent. 

Mrs.  Church  took  higher  ground.  "  Of  course 
this  sad  affair  has  upset  him  terribly,"  she  said, 
gravely.  "  His  is  a  faithful  nature,  and  he  can't  for- 
get. How  is  Miss  Banks  bearing  up  ?  " 

Mrs.  Banks,  looking  up  suspiciously,  said,  *'  Won- 
derful, considering,"  and  relapsed  into  silence  until 
such  time  as  her  foe  should  give  her  an  opening. 
Mrs.  Church  took  a  seat  by  her  side,  and  Niblettb, 
with  a  feeling  of  something  strained  in  the  atmos- 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  187 

phere,  for  which  he  could  not  account,  resumed  his 
walk. 

He  was  nearly  up  to  Captain  Barber's  house  when 
he  saw  a  figure  come  out  of  the  lane  by  the  side, 
and  after  glancing  furtively  in  all  directions  make 
silently  for  the  door.  The  watching  Nibletts  quick- 
ening his  pace,  reached  it  at  almost  the  same 
moment. 

"  Mrs.  Banks  is  looking  for  you,"  he  said,  as  he 
followed  him  into  the  parlour. 

Captain  Barber  turned  on  him  a  weary  eye,  but 
made  no  reply. 

"And  Mrs.  Church,  too;  at  least,  I  think  so,' 
continued  the  other. 

"  Cap'n  Nibletts,"  said  the  old  man,  slowly,  "  I 
'ope  you'll  never  live  long  enough  to  be  run  arter 
in  the  way  I'm  run  arter." 

The  astonished  mariner  murmured  humbly  that 
he  didn't  think  it  was  at  all  likely,  and  also  that 
Mrs.  Nibletts  would  probably  have  a  word  or  two 
to  say  in  the  matter. 

"  From  the  moment  I  get  up  to  the  moment  I 
get  to  bed,  I'm  run  arter,"  continued  the  hapless 
Barber.  "  Mrs.  Church  won't  let  me  go  out  of  'er 
sight  if  she  can  help  it,  and  Mrs.  Banks  is  as  bad  as 
she  is.  While  they  was  saying  nice  things  to  each 


1 88  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

other  this  morning  in  a  nasty  way  I  managed  to 
slip  out." 

"Well,  why  not  get  rid  of  Mrs.  Church?"  said 
the  simple  Nibletts. 

"  Rid  o'  Mrs.  Church  !  "  repeated  Captain  Barber, 
aghast ;  "  why  don't  you  get  rid  o'  your  face,  Nib- 
letts?" he  asked,  by  way  of  comparison  merely. 

"Because  I  don't  want  to,"  replied  the  other, 
flushing. 

"  Because  you  cant"  said  Captain  Barber,  em- 
phatically.  "  And  no  more  can't  I  get  rid  of  'er. 
You  see,  I  'appened  to  take  a  little  notice  of  *er." 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  the  other,  and  sighed  and  shook 
his  head  discouragingly. 

"  I  took  a  little  notice  of  'er,"  repeated  Captain 
Barber,  "  and  then  to  spare  her  feelings  I  'ad  to  sort 
o'  let  'er  know  that  I  could  never  marry  for  Fred's 
sake,  d'ye  see  ?  Then  on  top  of  all  that  poor  Fred 
goes  and  gets  drownded." 

"But  have  you  promised  to  marry  her?  "  asked 
Nibletts,  with  a  cunning  look. 

"Of  course  I've  not,"  rejoined  Captain  Barber, 
testily ;  "  but  when  you  know  as  much  about  wim- 
men  as  I  do,  you'll  know  that  that's  got  nothing  to 
do  with  it.  It  gets  took  for  granted.  Mrs.  Church's 
whole  manner  to  me  now  is  that  of  a  engaged  young 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  189 

person.  If  she  was  sitting  here  now  she'd  put  'er 
hand  on  top  o'  mine." 

"  Not  before  me  ?  "  said  Nibletts,  in  a  shocked 
voice. 

"  Before  the  Prince  of  Wales  and  all  the  Royal 
Family,"  replied  Captain  Barber,  with  conviction. 
"  You've  no  idea  how  silly  and  awkward  it  makes 
me  feel." 

"  Here  she  comes,"  said  Nibletts,  in  a  low  voice, 
"  and  Mrs.  Banks  and  her  daughter,  too." 

Captain  Barber  coughed  and,  sitting  upright, 
strove  to  look  unconcerned  as  the  three  ladies 
came  into  the  room  and  expressed  their  pleasure  at 
seeing  him. 

"I  couldn't  think  what  'ad  happened  to  you," 
said  Mrs.  Banks,  as  she  sank  panting  into  a  chair, 
and,  unfastening  her  bonnet-strings,  sat  regarding 
him  with  her  hands  on  her  knees. 

"  I  knew  he  was  all  right,"  said  Mrs.  Church, 
folding  her  hands  and  regarding  him  with  her  head 
on  one  side ;  "  if  anything  happened  to  him  I 
should  know  if  he  was  a  hundred  miles  away." 

She  sat  down  by  Captain  Barber,  and  laying  her 
hand  upon  his,  pressed  it  affectionately.  The 
captain,  a  picture  of  misery,  exchanged  a  signifi- 


190  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

cant  glance  with  Nibletts,  and  emitted  an  involun- 
tary groan. 

"  Don't  take  on  so,"  said  Mrs.  Banks,  compassion- 
ately. "  Do  you  know,  I've  got  a  feeling  that  poor 
Fred  has  been  saved  !  " 

"  That's  my  feeling,  too,"  said  Captain  Barber,  in 
a  firm  voice. 

"  It's  very  likely,"  said  Captain  Nibletts,  slowly. 

"  What's  easier  than  for  him  to  have  been  picked 
up  by  a  passing  vessel,  and  carried  off  goodness 
knows  where  ?  "  enquired  Mrs.  Banks,  with  a  glance 
evenly  distributed  between  her  daughter  and  the 
housekeeper. 

"  I  heard  of  a  man  once  who  fell  overboard,"  said 
Captain  Nibletts,  softly,  "  and  he  turned  up  safe 
and  sound  twenty  years  arter." 

"  Married  man  ?  "  enquired  Miss  Banks,  softly. 

"  He  was,"  said  the  captain,  with  the  doggedness 
of  a  witness  under  cross-examination. 

Mrs.  Church  turned  her  eyes  upwards.  "  Fancy 
the  joyful  meeting  of  husband  and  wife,"  she  said, 
sentimentally. 

"  She  died  just  two  days  afore  he  turned  up," 
said  Captain  Nibletts,  simply. 

There  was  a  frigid  silence  during  which  the  three 
ladies,  sinking  for  a  time  their  differences,  eyed  him 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  191 

with  every  sign  of  strong  disapprobation,  Mrs. 
Banks  giving  vent  to  a  sniff  which  disparaged  the 
whole  race  of  man. 

"  As  for  men  who  fall  overboard  and  get  picked 
up  and  turn  up  months  afterwards,"  continued  the 
faithful  Nibletts,  "why,  every  sailorman  knows 
scores  of  'em." 

"  I  knowed  seven,"  said  Captain  Barber,  with  the 
exactness  of  untruth.  "  They  didn't  seem  to  think 
much  of  it,  didn't  seem  to  think  it  anything  unusual, 
I  mean." 

"  It  ain't,"  said  Nibletts,  stoutly. 

The  room  relapsed  into  silence,  and  Captain 
Nibletts,  finding  Mrs.  Church's  gaze  somewhat  try- 
ing, got  up  to  admire  a  beautiful  oil  painting  on 
glass  in  a  black  frame  which  hung  over  the  mantel- 
piece, and  after  a  few  encomiums  on  his  host's 
taste,  bade  him  good-bye. 

"  I'm  coming  with  you,"  said  Barber,  rising ; 
44  I've  got  some  business  to  talk  about." 

"  What,  out  again,"  said  Mrs.  Church,  tenderly, 
"  after  being  on  your  poor  feet  all  day  ?  " 

Captain  Barber  murmured  something  inaudible 
in  reply,  and  taking  his  hat  from  the  sideboard 
went  out  with  Nibletts.  For  a  time  they  trudged 
along  in  silence  until  the  latter,  who  wanted  to  go 


i92  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

to  his  own  home,  ventured  to  ask  where  they  were 
going. 

"All  places  are  alike  to  me,"  replied  the  old  man, 
dismally.  "  I  only  want  to  get  away,  that's  all. 
She  an*  Mrs.  Banks  are  sure  to  have  a  turn  and  try 
and  drag  me  into  it.'* 

He  clasped  his  hands  behind  his  back,  and,  paus- 
ing at  a  turn  of  the  road,  looked  down  upon  the 
little  quay  below.  Out  in  the  river  two  or  three 
small  craft  rode  at  anchor,  while  a  babble  of  cheer- 
ful voices  from  a  distant  boat  only  served  to  em- 
phasise the  stillness  of  the  evening. 

"  Looks  quiet,"  said  Captain  Nibletts,  after  watch- 
ing him  for  some  time. 

"  I'm  thinking  of  my  nevy,"  said  Captain  Barber, 
slowly.  "  I  remember  me  an'  my  sister  bringing 
'im  here  when  he  was  three  year  old,  and  I  'ad  to 
carry  him  all  the  way  back.  He  put  his  arms 
round  my  neck,  and  I  can  smell  peppermint-ball  now." 

Captain  Nibletts,  who  did  not  quite  follow  him, 
attributed  the  outrage  to  a  young  couple  who  had 
just  passed. 

"  I'm  all  alone  now,"  continued  Captain  Barber, 
unheeding,  "  but  I  don't  want  to  marry.  Why  not  ? 
'Cos  I'm  too  old,  and  because  it's  like  beginning 
where  other  people  leave  off." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  193 

"  Well,  make  up  your  mind  and  tell  her  so," 
said  the  other. 

"  It  wouldn't  do  any  good,"  said  Barber,  dole- 
fully. 

"  Tell  her  to-night,"  said  Nibletts,  "  Come  into 
the  Thorn  and  have  a  glass,  just  so  as  to  warm  you 
up  to  it,  and  then  get  it  over." 

Captain  Barber  made  no  reply,  but  turning  round 
led  the  way  slowly  back  to  the  inn,  and  after  ac- 
knowledging the  respectful  salutations  of  the  crew 
of  the  schooner  who  were  in  the  bar  by  ordering 
the  landlady  to  fill  their  pots  again,  led  the  way  into 
the  parlour  and  began  to  charge  himself  for  the  in- 
terview. 

That  he  did  not  underestimate  the  difficulties  of 
the  ordeal  was  evident  by  the  extent  of  his  orders, 
and  Captain  Nibletts  noted  with  satisfaction  as  the 
evening  wore  on  that  the  old  man's  spirits  were  im- 
proving considerably.  Twice  he  sent  out  instruc- 
tions to  the  bar  to  have  the  men's  mugs  replen- 
ished, a  proceeding  which  led  to  Mr.  William  Green 
being  sent  by  the  grateful  crew  to  express  their  feel- 
ings in  a  neat  little  speech. 

"  A  very  nice-spoken  young  fellow,"  said  Captain 
Barber,  approvingly. 

He  had  some  more  whisky,  and  at  the  sounds  of 


I94  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

a  step-dance  on  the  brick  floor  of  the  adjoining  tap. 
room,  took  up  his  glass,  and,  followed  by  Nibletts, 
watched  the  proceedings  from  the  doorway.  Mr. 
William  Green,  who  worshipped  wealth  and  posi- 
tion, sidled  up  to  him,  and  with  much  deference  dis- 
cussed the  dancing. 

He  made  such  a  favourable  impression  that  Cap- 
tain Barber,  who  was  in  a  semi-maudlin  mood,  took 
him  by  the  arm  to  the  now  deserted  parlour,  and 
ensconcing  him  in  a  corner,  told  him  all  his  troubles 
and  warned  him  of  the  pitfalls  which  beset  the  feet 
of  good-looking  bachelors.  Mr.  Green  was  sympa- 
thy itself,  and  for  some  time  sat  silently  evolving 
various  schemes  for  the  deliverance  of  his  patron. 

Captain  Nibletts  returning  to  the  parlour  a  little 
later  found  them  in  close  consultation.  A  ray  of 
hope  illuminated  the  somewhat  heavy  features  of 
the  old  man,  and,  catching  sight  of  the  captain,  he 
beckoned  him  to  his  side. 

"  Me  an'  this  young  man  have  thought  of  some- 
thing," he  said,  in  a  voice  rendered  husky  with 
excitement. 

Nibletts  waited. 

"  He's  goin'  to  call  at  my  place,"  continued  the 
other,  "and  tell  Mrs.  Church  that  I've  been  took 
unwell  at  the  Cauliflower  at  Mapleden,  and  want  to 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  195 

see  her,  and  he's  to  bring  her  there  at  once.  Arter 
they've  started  I  go  in  and  get  to  bed,  and  earth- 
quakes wouldn't  wake  me,  let  alone  a  knock  at  the 
door.  D'ye  see?" 

"What  good's  that  goin' to  do?"  enquired  the 
astonished  listener. 

"  Next  day,"  said  Barber,  in  thrilling  tones,  as  he 
placed  his  forefinger  on  the  other's  arm,  "  I  refuse 
to  believe  her  story.  Green,  here,  denies  of  it  too, 
and  sez  'e  saw  her  at  the  gate  and  asked  her  to  go 
for  a  walk  with  him." 

Captain  Nibletts  fingered  his  beard.  "  It  don't 
seem  to  be  the  sort  of  trick  to  play  on  a  woman," 
he  expostulated,  "an'  it's  four  miles  to  Mapleden. 
What's  she  goin'  to  do  ?" 

"That's  'er  lookout,"  observed  Captain  Barber, 
with  much  composure,  "all  I  know  is  she  won't 
wake  me.  I  daresay  she'll  come  on  to  your  place. 
Wimmen  wot  sets  their  caps  at  men  wot  don't  want 
'em  set  at  'em  must  put  up  with  the  consequences." 

"You  give  me  half  an  hour,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Green, 
impressively,  "  and  then  you  can  come  on  as  soon 
as  you  like.  You'll  find  the  coast  clear  by  then." 

He  bit  off  the  end  of  the  cigar  presented  by 
Captain  Barber,  and,  thanking  him  effusively  as  he 
«trvick  a  match  for  him,  quitted  the  inn.  The  two 


196  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

captains  waited  restlessly  for  the  time  specified, 
and  then,  finishing  their  drinks,  went  outside,  and, 
standing  in  the  light  which  streamed  from  the 
windows  and  doorway  of  the  Thorn,  gazed  at  the 
dark  road  beyond. 

"  It  looks  all  right,"  said  Barber,  shaking  hands. 
"  Good-night." 

"  Good  luck,"  said  Nibletts. 

The  other,  not  without  a  little  trepidation,  walked 
towards  his  house,  and  opening  the  door,  after  a 
little  difficulty,  stood  safely  inside.  The  house  was 
quiet  and  in  darkness,  except  for  the  lamp  which 
stood  on  the  parlour-table,  and  after  a  moment's 
survey  he  proceeded  to  shut  up  for  the  night. 

As  a  rule  he  was  careless  about  such  matters, 
but  to-night  no  gaoler  saw  to  his  bolts  and  bars 
more  carefully  than  he  did.  He  returned  to  the 
parlour,  having  made  all  secure,  and  lighting  his 
pipe  for  a  few  final  whiffs  before  retiring,  winked  at 
himself  solemnly  in  the  glass.  Then  fearful  that 
the  housekeeper  might  return  sooner  than  was 
expected,  he  blew  out  the  lamp  and  smoked  in  the 
dark. 

He  knocked  out  his  pipe  at  last,  and  walked 
slowly  and  ponderously  upstairs.  He  grinned 
again  as  he  passed  the  door  of  the  housekeeper's 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  197 

room,  and  then,  with  a  catch  in  his  breath,  clutched 
heavily  at  the  banister  as  a  soft  female  voice  bade 
him  "  Good-night." 

Captain  Barber,  surprised  beyond  all  measure, 
was  unable  to  speak. 

"  I  thought  you'd  got  lost  again,"  said  the  voice, 
playfully.  "  Good-night." 

"  Good-night,"  rejoined  the  other,  in  hollow  tones. 
"Mrs.  Banks  stay  long?"  he  enquired,  pausing  at 
his  door. 

"She  went  just  about  half  an  hour  before  you 
came  in,"  replied  the  housekeeper.  "  Elizabeth 
went  soon  after  you  did,  but  her  mother  stopped 
on.  She  went  very  suddenly  when  she  did  go,  and 
was  very  mysterious  about  it.  Not  that  I  want  to 
know  her  business." 

"  Mysterious?"  faltered  the  captain. 

"  Some  young  man  came  to  the  door,"  continued 
the  innocent  woman,  "  and  they  were  talking  in  a 
low  voice.  I  don't  know  who  it  was,  because  Mrs. 
Banks  let  me  see  quite  plainly  that  she  didn't  want 
me  to  know.  Then  she  just  called  out  '  Good- 
night/ and  went  off  as  fast  as  you  please." 

Captain  Barber  supported  himself  for  a  moment 
by  the  handle  of  his  door,  and  then  in  a  dazed  way 
blundered  into  his  room.  He  was  a  good-hearted 


198  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

man  in  a  way,  and  pushing  open  the  little  casement 
he  thrust  out  his  head  and  sighed  with  genuine 
feeling  as  he  thought  of  his  poor  old  friend  plodding 
slowly  to  Mapleden.  Incidentally  he  felt  a  little 
bit  sorry  for  Mr.  William  Green. 

He  was  awaked  next  morning  after  a  somewhat 
restless  night  by  the  sounds  of  an  unwonted  noise 
downstairs,  and  lay  in  amazement  listening  to  a 
hum  of  excited  voices  below.  Knuckles  rapped  on 
his  door  and  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Church,  much  agi- 
tated, requested  him  to  rise  and  attire  himself. 

He  was  out  of  bed  at  that  and  looking  from  the 
window.  A  small  group  of  children  stood  in  the 
road  outside  the  house,  while  Joe  and  the  cook 
with  their  arms  on  the  fence  were  staring  hard  at 
his  parlour  window,  occasionally  varying  the  pro- 
ceedings by  a  little  conversation  with  the  people 
next  door,  who  were  standing  in  their  front  garden. 
In  a  state  of  considerable  agitation  he  hurriedly 
dressed  himself  and  went  downstairs. 

His  sitting-room  was  full.  Mrs.  Banks,  looking 
very  tired,  was  sitting  in  the  arm-chair  taking 
smelling-salts  at  intervals,  and  staring  fiercely  at 
Mr.  William  Green,  who  was  huddled  in  a  corner 
smiling  sheepishly  behind  Captain  Nibletts  and 
Ben. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  199 

"What's  all  this?  "  demanded  Captain  Barber,  in 
a  trembling  voice,  as  his  eye  met  Mr.  Green's. 

Several  of  Mrs.  Banks's  relatives  began  speaking 
at  once,  assisted  by  some  of  the  neighbours.  The 
substance  of  their  remarks  was  that  a  man,  whose 
polite  tongue  hid  the  falseness  of  his  heart,  had 
lured  Mrs.  Banks  for  a  four-mile  walk  to  Mapleden 
late  the  preceding  night  under  the  pretence  that 
Captain  Barber,  who  was  evidently  hale  and  hearty, 
was  lying  ill  at  the  Cauliflower.  They  demanded 
his  immediate  dismissal  from  the  ship  and  his 
exemplary  punishment  by  the  law. 

"  What  'ave  you  got  to  say  to  this  ?  "  demanded 
Captain  Barber  of  the  villain,  in  tones  of  righteous 
indignation  tempered  by  fear. 

"  It  isn't  true,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Green,  respectfully. 
"  I  didn't  say  anything  of  the  kind." 

"  Wot  did  you  say,  then  ? "  enquired  Captain 
Barber,  in  a  voice  which  the  company  thought  far 
too  mild  for  the  occasion. 

"  She  was  standing  at  the  door  as  I  passed,"  said 
Mr.  Green,  nervously,  "  and  I  asked  her  to  go  for  a 
walk  with  me." 

"  Lawk-a-mussy  me ! "  screamed  the  horrified 
Mrs.  Banks. 

"  We  went  for  a  nice  little  stroll,"  continued  the 


200  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

graceless  Mr.  Green,  "  and  then  I  s'pose  she  found 
it  was  later  than  she  thought,  and  she  began  to 
make  a  fuss." 

"  Me,  at  my  time  o'  life  ?  "  demanded  the  indig- 
nant Mrs.  Banks  of  the  audience. 

"  You  did  make  a  fuss,"  said  Mr.  Green. 

11  O'  course  I  made  a  fuss  when  I  found  out  how 
I  had  been  deceived.  You  were  here  when  he 
came,  Mrs.  Church,  weren't  you  ?  " 

"  I  would  rather  not  say  anything  about  it,"  said 
the  housekeeper,  freezingly. 

"  I  insist  upon  your  speaking,"  said  the  old  lady, 
getting  very  red  in  the  face. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  much  about  it,"  said  the 
housekeeper,  looking  round  app.ealingly.  "  I  heard 
you  speaking  to  somebody  at  the  door  in  a  low 
voice." 

"  It  wasn't  a  low  voice,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Banks, 
sharply. 

"  Well,  I  couldn't  hear  what  you  were  saying,  and 
then  when  you  went  outside  and  I  asked  you 
whether  you  were  going  home  you  said  'yes,'  didn't 
you?" 

"  Are  you  sure  she  said  she  was  going  home  ? " 
said  Mrs.  Banks's  brother-in-law,  in  an  awful  voir •% 
as  the  old  lady  sank  back  in  her  chair. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  201 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Church,  with  a  fine  show  of 
reluctance. 

There  was  a  dead  silence,  during  which  they  all 
heard  the  smelling-salts  drop. 

"If  this  man  said  Captain  Barber  was  ill  at 
Mapleden,  why  didn't  you  tell  me?"  continued 
Mrs.  Church,  in  a  mildly  aggrieved  voice.  "  I  think 
if  anybody  ought  to  have  known,  it  should  have 
been  me." 

"  It's  all  a  fuss  about  nothing,"  said  Mr.  Green, 
brazenly.  "  She  stayed  out  a  bit  too  late,  and  then 
wanted  to  put  it  all  on  to  me." 

A  good  Samaritan  picked  up  the  smelling-salts 
and  held  them  to  the  victim's  nose,  while  her  scan- 
dalized  relatives  discussed  the  situation  in  hurried 
whispers.  The  brother-in-law  eyed  her  with  be- 
wildered disapproval,  and  in  the  disjointed  accents 
peculiar  to  surprise  was  heard  to  make  use  of  the 
words  "friskiness"  and  "gallivanting"  and  "old 
enough  to  know  better." 

Her  relatives'  remarks,  however,  caused  Mrs. 
Banks  comparatively  little  pain.  Her  attention 
was  fully  taken  up  by  the  housekeeper,  in  whose 
satisfied  smile  she  saw  a  perfect  recognition  of  the 
reasons  for  her  action  of  the  previous  evening.  She 
got  up  from  her  chair,  and  with  a  stateliness  which 


202  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

her  brother-in-law  thought  somewhat  misplaced, 
took  her  daughter's  arm,  and  slowly  left  the  room, 
her  departure  being  the  signal  for  a  general  break- 
up. By  twos  and  threes  the  company  drifted 
slowly  up  the  road  in  her  wake,  while  Captain  Bar- 
ber,  going  in  the  other  direction,  accompanied 
Captain  Nibletts  and  party  as  far  as  the  schooner, 
in  order  that  he  might  have  the  opportunity  of  say- 
ing a  few  well-chosen  words  to  Mr.  Green  on  the 
subject  of  precipitancy. 

"  If  it  'adn't  been  for  me  tipping  'im  the  wink,  so 
as  to  let  him  know  what  line  'e  was  to  go  on  when 
I  came  down,  where  should  I  'ave  been  ?  "  he  de- 
manded of  Captain  Nibletts. 

And  that  astonished  mariner,  with  a  helpless 
shake  of  his  head,  gave  it  up. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  Blue  Posts,  Chelsea,  is  an  old-time  public* 
house  pleasantly  situated  by  the  river,  with  an  ex- 
tensive connection  amongst  gentlemen's  servants, 
'busmen,  and  other  skilled  judges  of  good  beer,  the 
subtle  and  delicate  perfume  of  which  liquor  per- 
vades the  place  from  cellar  to  basement,  and  has 
more  than  once  taken  the  policeman  on  duty  to  the 
back  door,  under  the  impression  that  something 
wanted  looking  into. 

To  some  men  imprisonment  in  such  a  place  would 
have  been  little  short  of  ecstasy.  In  the  heat  of 
summer  they  would  have  sat  in  the  cool  cellar  amid 
barrels  of  honest  beer;  in  winter,  they  would  have 
led  the  conversation  cosily  seated  around  the  tap* 
room  fire.  For  exercise,  profitable  employment  at 
the  beer-engine  in  the  bar  ;  for  intellectual  exercise, 
the  study  of  practical  chemistry  in  the  cellar. 

To  Captain  Fred  Flower  none  of  these  things 
appealed.  He  had  visited  the  cellar  certainly — in 
search  of  subterranean  exits;  he  had  sat  in  the 
tap-room — close  to  the  open  window  ;  but  his  rabid 
desire  to  get  away  from  the  place  and  never  see  it 


204  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

again  could  not  have  been  surpassed  by  the  most 
bitter  teetotaler  that  ever  breathed. 

His  greatest  trouble  was  with  Porson,  whose 
limpet-like  qualities  were  a  source  of  never-failing 
concern  to  the  unfortunate  mariner.  Did  he  ascend 
to  the  drawing-room  and  gaze  yearningly  from  the 
windows  at  the  broad  stream  of  Father  Thames 
and  the  craft  dropping  down  on  the  ebb-tide  to  the 
sea,  Uncle  Porson,  sallow  of  face  and  unclean  of 
collar,  was  there  to  talk  beery  romance  of  the 
ocean.  Did  he  retire  to  the  small  yard  at  the  rear 
of  the  premises  and  gaze  from  the  back  door  at  the 
passing  life  of  a  Chelsea  by-street,  Uncle  Porson 
was  looking  over  his  shoulder,  pointing  out  milk- 
men with  histories,  and  cabmen  with  a  past. 

The  second  week  of  his  stay  was  drawing  to  a 
close  before  he  fully  realised  the  horror  of  his 
position.  His  foot,  which  had  been  giving  him 
considerable  trouble,  was  getting  much  better, 
though  it  was  by  no  means  well  enough  to  give  him 
a  chance  in  a-  foot-race  with  Mr.  Porson  or  Charles, 
and  as  the  family  at  the  Blue  Posts  realised  the 
improvement,  the  attentions  of  his  personal  attend- 
ants were  redoubled.  The  key  of  his  bed-room 
door  was  turned  every  night  after  he  had  retired, 
a  discovery  he  had  made  the  first  night  after  care- 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  205 

fully  dressing  for  flight  and  spending  an  hour  over 
the  composition  of  a  farewell  note  to  Miss  Tipping. 
There  was  no  chance  of  reaching  the  roof  from  hia 
bed-room  window,  and  the  pavement  below  offered 
him  his  choice  between  a  wedding  and  a  funeral. 

And  amid  all  this  the  fiction  was  maintained  of 
preserving  him  from  his  lawless  foes  and  his  own 
inconvenient  devotion  to  duty.  A  struggle  for 
escape  was  not  to  be  thought  of,  as  the  full  measure 
of  his  deceitfulness  would  transpire  in  the  event  of 
failure,  and  the  wedding  drew  nearer  day  by  day, 
while  his  active  brain  was  still  casting  about  in 
vain  for  any  means  of  escape. 

"  Next  Tuesday,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping  to  her  step- 
daughter, as  they  sat  in  the  much  decorated  draw- 
ing-room one  afternoon,  "  you'll  be  Mrs.  Robinson." 

Miss  Tipping,  who  was  sitting  next  to  the  skip- 
per, looked  at  him  languishingly,  and  put  her  head 
on  his  shoulder. 

"  I  can  hardly  believe  it,"  she  said,  coyly. 

Flower,  who  was  in  the  same  predicament,  patted 
her  head  tenderly,  as  being  easier  than  replying. 

"And  I  must  say,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping,  regarding 
the  pair,  "  I'm  a  plain  woman,  and  I  speak  my 
mind,  that  if  it  was  me,  I  should  want  to  know  more 
about  him  first." 


2o6  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  I'm  quite  satisfied,  mar,"  said  Miss  Tipping, 
without  raising  her  head. 

"  There's  your  relations  to  be  satisfied,  Matilda," 
said  Uncle  Person,  in  an  important  voice. 

Miss  Tipping  raised  her  head  and  favoured  the 
interrupter  with  a  baleful  stare,  whereupon  Mr, 
Person,  scratching  his  neck  feebly,  glanced  at  Mrs. 
Tipping  for  support. 

"  Our  relations  needn't  come  to  see  us,"  said  his 
niece,  at  length.  "  He's  marrying  me,  not  my  rela- 
tions." 

"  He's  making  me  his  uncle,  at  any  rate,"  said 
Mr.  Porson,  with  a  sudden  access  of  dignity. 

"You  don't  mind,  Fred,  do  you?"  asked  Miss 
Tipping,  anxiously. 

"  I'd  put  up  with  more  than  that  for  your  sake," 
said  Flower.  "  I  needn't  tell  people." 

"  That's  all  very  fine,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping,  taking 
up  the  cudgels  for  the  speechless  and  glaring  vic- 
tim of  these  pleasantries,  "  but  there's  no  mystery 
about  your  uncle ;  everybody  knows  him.  He 
doesn't  disappear  just  as  he  is  going  to  get  married, 
and  be  brought  back  in  a  cab  months  afterwards. 
He  isn't  full  of  secrets  he  mustn't  tell  people  who 
ought  to  know." 

"  Never  kep'  a  secret  in  my  life/'  agreed  UA£ie 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  207 

Person,  whose  head  was  buzzing  under  this  unac- 
customed praise. 

"  I  know  quite  enough  about  Fred,"  said  Miss 
Tipping,  tenderly ;  "  when  I  want  your  opinion, 
rnar,  I'll  ask  you  for  it." 

Mrs.  Tipping's  reply  was  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  a  young  man  from  the  jeweller's  with 
four  brooches  for  Flower  to  present  to  the  brides- 
maids. Mrs.  Tipping  had  chosen  them,  and  it  did 
not  take  the  hapless  skipper  long  to  arrive  at  the 
conclusion  that  she  was  far  fonder  of  bridesmaids 
than  he  was.  His  stock  of  money  was  beginning 
to  dwindle,  and  the  purchase  of  a  second  wedding 
suit  within  a  month  was  beginning  to  tell  even  upon 
his  soaring  spirits. 

"  There's  another  thing  about  Fred  I  don't  quite 
like,"  said  Mrs.  Tipping,  as  she  sat  with  the 
brooches  ranged  upon  her  capacious  lap ;  "  he's 
extravagant.  I  don't  like  a  mean  man,  but  one 
who  flings  his  money  away  is  almost  as  bad.  These 
'ere  brooches  are  very  pretty,  and  they  do  him 
credit,  but  I  can't  say  but  what  something  cheaper 
wouldn't  'ave  done  as  well." 

"  I  thought  you  liked  them,"  said  the  indignant 
Flower. 

44 1  like  them  well  enough,"  said   Mrs.  Tipping, 


208  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

solemnly ;  "  there's  nothing  to  dislike  in  them. 
Seems  to  me  they  must  have  cost  a  lot  of  money, 
that's  all — I  suppose  I  may  make  a  remark! " 

Flower  changed  the  subject,  and  turning  to  Miss 
Tipping  began  to  speak  in  a  low  voice  of  their  new 
home.  Miss  Tipping  wanted  a  sort  of  Eden  with 
bar  improvements,  and  it  was  rather  difficult  to 
find. 

They  had  discussed  the  matter  before,  and  the 
wily  skipper  had  almost  quarrelled  with  his  bride- 
elect  over  the  part  of  the  country  in  which  they 
were  to  live,  Miss  Tipping  holding  out  for  the 
east  coast,  while  Flower  hotly  championed  the 
south.  Mrs.  Tipping,  with  some  emphasis,  had 
suggested  leaving  it  until  after  the  honeymoon,  but 
a  poetic  advertisement  of  an  inn  in  Essex  catching 
her  daughter's  eye,  it  was  decided  that  instant 
inspection  should  be  made. 

They  travelled  down  from  Fenchurch  Street, 
accompanied  by  Dick  and  Mrs.  Tipping,  the  skip- 
per, who  was  painfully  on  the  alert  for  any  chance 
of  escape,  making  a  great  fuss  of  his  foot,  and  con- 
fessing to  a  feeling  of  unusual  indisposition.  He 
sat  in  one  corner  of  the  carriage  with  his  eyes  half 
closed,  while  Miss  Tipping,  with  her  arm  affec- 
tionately drawn  through  his,  was  the  unconscious 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  209 

means  of  preventing  a  dash  for  liberty  as  the  train 
steamed  slowly  through  a  station. 

The  nearest  station  to  the  Rose  of  Essex  was 
five  miles  distant,  a  fact  which  (owing  perhaps  to 
the  expensive  nature  of  newspaper  charges)  did  not 
appear  in  the  advertisement. 

"  It's  a  nice  little  place,"  said  the  landlady  of  the 
Railway  Hotel,  as  they  asked  her  opinion  over 
lunch  ;  "  there's  a  little  land  goes  with  it.  If  you 
want  to  drive  over,  I'd  better  be  having  something 
got  ready." 

Mrs.  Tipping,  who  halved  the  duties  with  Flower, 
she  doing  the  ordering  and  he  the  paying,  assented, 
and  in  a  short  time  they  were  bowling  rapidly 
along  through  narrow  country  lanes  to  their  desti- 
nation. The  skipper  noticed  with  pleasure  the 
lonely  nature  of  the  country,  and  his  heart  beat 
fast  as  he  thought  of  the  chances  of  success  of  a 
little  plan  of  escape. 

So  far  as  appearance  went,  the  inn  was  excellent. 
Roses  clustered  round  the  porch  and  hung  in  fra- 
grant bunches  from  the  walls,  while  three  or  four 
sturdy  lime  trees  in  one  corner  threw  a  grateful 
shade  over  a  rustic  table  and  settles.  Flower,  with 
a  grateful  sigh,  said  that  it  was  the  very  thing. 
Even  Mrs.  Tipping,  after  a  careful  inspection,  said 


210  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

that  they  might  do  worse ;  Dick,  with  an  air  of 
professional  gravity,  devoted  most  of  his  attention 
to  the  cellar,  while  the  engaged  couple  walked 
slowly  round  the  immense  garden  in  the  rear 
exchanging  tender  whispers. 

"  We'll  think  it  over  and  let  you  know,"  said 
Mrs.  Tipping  to  the  landlord. 

"  There's  been  a  lot  after  it,"  said  he  slowly, 
with  a  glance  at  his  wife. 

"And  yet  it  ain't  gone,"  said  the  business-like 
Mrs.  Tipping,  pleasantly. 

"  I'm  going  to  take  it,  mar,"  said  Miss  Tipping, 
firmly. 

Mrs.  Tipping  sighed  at  her  haste,  but  finding  her 
determined,  went  down  the  cellar  again,  accom- 
panied by  Dick,  for  a  last  look  round.  Captain 
Flower,  leaning  heavily  on  Miss  Tipping's  arm, 
limped  slowly  to  the  carriage. 

"  Tired  ?  "  she  enquired,  tenderly,  as  he  sank  back 
in  the  cushions. 

"  Foot's  painful,"  he  said,  with  a  faint  smile. 
"  Good  gracious  !  " 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Miss  Tipping, 
alarmed  by  his  manner. 

"  I've  left  my  pipe  in  the  garden,"  said  Flower, 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  211 

rising,  "  the  one  you  gave  me.     I  wouldn't  lose  it 
for  the  world." 

"  I'll  get  it,"  said  Miss  Tipping,  springing  out  of 
the  carnage.  "  Whereabouts  did  you  leave  it,  do 
you  think?" 

"  By  the  bee-hives,"  said  Flower,  pale  with  ex- 
citement, as  he  heard  Mrs.  Tipping  and  Dick 
coming  up  from  the  cellar.  "  Make  haste  ;  some- 
body might  take  it." 

Miss  Tipping  darted  into  the  house,  and  immedi- 
ately afterwards  the  Tippings  ascended  from  the 
cellar,  attended  by  the  landlady. 

"Driver,"  said  Flower,  sharply. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  man,  looking  round  and  tenderly 
rubbing  his  back. 

"Take  that  to'the  lady  who  has  just  gone  in,  at 
once,"  gabbled  Flower  ;  "  hurry  up." 

For  want  of  anything  better,  he  handed  the  as- 
tonished driver  his  tobacco-pouch,  and  waved  him 
to  the  house.  The  lad  descended  from  his  perch 
and  ran  to  the  door  just  as  Dick  Tipping,  giving 
vent  to  a  sharp  cry,  was  rushing  out.  The  cry 
acted  on  the  skipper  like  magic,  and,  snatching  up 
the  whip,  he  gave  the  horse  a  cut  in  which  was  con- 
centrated the  fears  of  the  last  fortnight  and  the 
hopes  of  his  future  lifetime. 


212  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

The  animal  sprang  forward  madly  just  as  Dick 
Tipping,  who  had  pushed  the  driver  out  of  the  way, 
rushed  out  in  pursuit.  There  was  a  hard  white 
road  in  front  and  it  took  it  at  a  gallop,  the  vehicle 
rocking  from  side  to  side  behind  it  as  Flower  played 
on  it  with  the  whip.  Tipping  was  close  behind, 
and  the  driver  a  good  second.  Flower,  leaving  the 
horse  to  take  care  of  itself  for  a  time,  stood  upright 
in  the  carriage  and  hurled  cushions  at  his  foremost 
pursuer.  The  third  cushion  was  long  and  limp, 
and,  falling  on  end  in  front  of  him,  twined  itself 
round  his  swift-moving  legs  and  brought  him  heav- 
ily to  the  ground. 

"  He's  winded,"  said  Flower,  as  he  saw  the  coach* 
man  stop  and  help  the  other  man  slowly  to  his  feet ; 
"  shows  what  a  cushion  can  do." 

He  clambered  onto  the  seat,  as  a  bend  in  the 
road  shut  the  others  from  his  sight,  and  gathering 
up  the  reins,  gave  himself  over  to  the  joyous  feeling 
of  his  new-found  liberty  as  they  rushed  through  the 
air.  His  ideas  of  driving  were  elementary,  and  his 
mode  of  turning  corners  was  to  turn  them  quickly 
and  get  it  over ;  but  he  drove  on  for  miles  without 
mishap,  and,  the  horse  having  dropped  to  a  steady 
trot,  began  to  consider  his  future  movements. 

"  They'll  be  setting  the  wires  to  work,  I  expect," 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  213 

he  thought,  soberly.  "  What  a  comfortable  old 
world  this  must  have  been  before  they  invented 
steam  and  telegraph.  I'll  go  a  little  bit  farther,  and 
then  tie  it  up  to  a  tree." 

He  made  what  he  considered  an  endearing  noise 
with  his  mouth,  and  the  startled  animal  at  once 
bounded  forward  with  the  intention  of  getting  out 
of  hearing.  A  gentle  incline  favoured  the  pace, 
which  was  now  so  considerable  that  the  skipper, 
seeing  another  craft  approaching  him,  waved  his 
hand  towards  it  warningly. 

"  I  wonder  who  ought  to  get  out  of  the  way  ?  "  he 
said,  thoughtfullly  ;  "  I  s'pose  the  horse  knows." 

He  left  it  to  that  able  quadruped,  after  giving  it 
a  little  bang  on  the  flank  with  the  butt  end  of  the 
whip  to  keep  its  faculties  fresh.  There  was  a  fren- 
zied shout  from  the  other  vehicle,  a  sudden  violent 
stoppage,  with  the  crashing  of  wood,  and  Flower, 
crawling  out  of  the  ditch,  watched  with  some  admi- 
ration the  strenuous  efforts  of  his  noble  beast  to 
take  the  carriage  along  on  three  wheels. 

"  Look  what  you Ve  done ! "  roared  the  driver  of 
the  other  vehicle,  foaming  with  passion,  as  he 
jumped  out  and  held  his  plunging  horse  by  the 
head.  "  Look  at  my  gig,  sir  !  Look  at  it !  " 

Flower  looked,  and  then  returned  the  courtesy. 


214  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

*•  Look  at  mine,"  he  said,  impressively ;  "  mine's 
much  the  worst. " 

"You  were  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  road," 
shouted  the  other. 

"I  was  there  first,*'  said  Flower;  "it  wouldn't 
have  happened  if  you  hadn't  tried  to  get  out  of  my 
way.  The  course  I  was  on  I  should  have  passed 
you  easily." 

He  looked  up  the  road.  His  horse,  trembling 
violently,  was  standing  still,  with  the  wreck  of  the 
carriage  behind  it.  He  stooped  mechanically,  and 
picking  up  the  whip  which  was  lying  in  the  road 
said  that  he  would  go  off  for  assistance. 

"  You  stay  here,  sir,"  said  the  other  man  with  an 
oath. 

"  I  won't,"  said  the  skipper. 

His  adversary  made  no  reply,  but,  having  by  this 
time  soothed  his  frightened  horse,  took  his  whip 
out  of  its  socket  and  strode  towards  him  with  the 
butt  raised  over  his  head.  Flower  arranged  his 
own  whip  the  same  way,  and  both  men  being  new 
to  the  weapon,  circled  round  each  other  two  or  three 
times  waiting  for  a  little  instruction.  Then  the 
owner  of  the  gig,  whose  temper  was  rising  every 
second,  ran  in  and  dealt  the  skipper  a  heavy  blow 
on  the  head. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  215 

The  blow  dispelled  an  idea  which  was  slowly 
forming  there  of  asking  the  extent  of  the  damage, 
and,  if  it  were  not  too  much,  offering  to  make  it 
good.  Ideas  of  settlement  vanished ;  ideas  of 
honour,  morality,  and  even  escape  vanished  too ; 
all  merged  in  the  one  fixed  idea  of  giving  the  other 
man  a  harder  blow  than  he  had  given. 

For  a  minute  or  two  the  battle  raged  fairly 
equally ;  both  were  securing  a  fair  amount  of  pun- 
ishment. Then,  under  a  heavy  blow  from  Flower, 
his  foe  went  down  suddenly.  For  a  second  or  two 
the  skipper  held  his  breath  with  fear,  then  the 
other  man  raised  himself  feebly  on  his  knees,  and, 
throwing  away  his  whip,  staggered  to  his  feet  and, 
unfastening  the  reins,  clambered  unsteadily  into  his 
gig  and  drove  off  without  a  word. 

The  victorious  skipper  looked  up  and  down  the 
lonely  road,  and  shaking  his  head  sadly  at  the  noble 
steed  which  had  brought  him  into  this  mess,  ten- 
derly  felt  his  bruised  and  aching  head,  and  then  set 
off  as  fast  as  his  foot  would  permit  up  the  road. 

He  looked  about  eagerly  as  he  went  for  a  place 
of  concealment,  fully  aware  of  the  inability  of  a 
lame  shipmaster  to  outdistance  horseflesh.  Hedges 
and  fields  bounded  both  sides  of  the  road,  but  half 
a  mile  farther  along,  on  the  right-hand  side,  the 


216  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

field  stretched  away  upwards  to  meet  a  wood. 
Towards  this  wood  Captain  Flower,  having  first 
squeezed  himself  through  a  gap  in  the  hedge,  pro- 
gressed with  all  speed. 

He  sat  on  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  pine  to  regain  his 
breath,  and  eagerly  looked  about  him.  To  his  dis- 
appointment he  saw  that  the  wood  was  of  no  great 
depth,  but  was  a  mere  belt  of  pines  running  almost 
parallel  with  the  road  he  had  quitted.  With  the 
single  idea  of  getting  as  far  away  from  the  scene  of 
his  crime  as  possible,  he  began  to  walk  through  it. 

The  wood  was  very  still,  and  the  shade  grateful 
after  the  heat  of  the  sun.  Just  beyond,  the  fields 
were  shimmering  in  the  heat,  and  he  pricked  up  his 
ears  as  the  unmistakable  sound  of  wheels  and  hoofs 
came  across  the  silent  fields.  He  looked  round 
wildly,  and  seeing  a  tiny  cottage  standing  in  a  bit 
of  a  clearing,  made  towards  it. 

A  little  old  man  twisted  with  rheumatism  ros&as 
he  stood  at  the  open  door  and  regarded  him  with 
a  pair  of  bloodshot,  but  sharp,  old  eyes,  while  an 
old  woman  sitting  in  a  Windsor-chair  looked  up 
anxiously. 

"  Can  I  come  in  ?  "  asked  Flower. 

"Aye,"  said  the  old  man,  standing  aside  to  let 
him  pass. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  217 

"  Hot  day,"  said  the  skipper,  taking  a  seat. 

"  No,  'tain  V  said  the  old  man. 

"  Not  so  hot  as  yesterday,"  said  Flower,  with  a 
conciliatory  smile. 

"  It's  'otter  than  it  was  yesterday,"  said  the  old 
man.  "  What  ha'  you  done  to  your  face  ?  " 

"I  was  climbing  a  tree,"  said  Flower,  with  a 
laugh,  "and  I  fell  down  ;  I've  hurt  my  foot,  too." 

"  Served  you  right  if  you'd  broke  your  neck," 
said  his  amiable  host,  "  climbing  trees  at  your  time 
o*  life." 

"  Nice  cottage  you've  got  here,"  said  the  persist- 
ent Flower. 

"  I  wish  you  'ad  to  live  in  it,"  said  the  old  man. 

He  took  a  proffered  cigar,  and  after  eyeing  it  for 
some  time,  like  a  young  carver  with  a  new  joint, 
took  out  a  huge  clasp-knife  and  slowly  sawed  the 
end  off. 

"  Can  I  sleep  here  for  the  night  ?  "  asked  Flower, 
at  length. 

"  No,  you  can't,"  said  the  old  man,  drawing  at 
his  cigar. 

He  smoked  on,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has 
just  given  a  very  clever  answer  to  a  very  difficult 
question. 

44  We  ain't  on'y  got  one  room  besides  this,"  said 


218  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

the  old  woman  solemnly.  "  Years  ago  we  used  to 
have  four  and  a  wash-place." 

"  Oh,  I  could  sleep  on  the  floor  here,*'  said 
Flower,  lightly.  "  I'll  pay  you  five  shillings." 

"  Let's  see  your  money,"  said  the  old  man,  lean- 
ing forward. 

Flower  put  the  sum  in  his  hand.  "  I'll  pay  now," 
he  said,  heartily. 

"  The  floor  won't  run  away,"  said  the  other,  pull- 
ing  out  an  old  leathern  purse,  "  and  you  can  sleep 
on  any  part  of  it  you  like." 

Flower  thanked  him  effusively.  He  was  listening 
intently  for  any  sounds  outside.  If  the  Tippings 
and  the  man  in  the  gig  met,  they  would  scour  the 
country-side,  and  almost  certainly  pay  the  cottage 
a  visit. 

"  If  you  let  me  go  upstairs  and  lie  down  for  an 
hour  or  two,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  old  man,  "I'll 
give  you  another  half-crown." 

The  old  man  said  nothing,  but  held  out  his  hand, 
and  after  receiving  the  sum  got  up  slowly,  and, 
opening  a  door  by  the  fire-place,  revealed  a  few 
broken  stairs,  which  he  slowly  ascended,  after  beck- 
oning his  guest  to  follow. 

"  It's  a  small  place,"  he  said,  tersely,  "  but  I  dare- 
say you've  often  slept  in  a  worse." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  219 

Flower  made  no  reply.  He  was  looking  from  the 
tiny  casement.  Through  an  opening  in  the  trees 
he  saw  a  couple  of  figures  crossing  the  field  towards 
the  wood. 

"  If  anybody  asks  you  whether  you  have  seen 
me,  say  no,"  he  said,  rapidly,  to  the  old  man. 
"  I've  got  into  a  bit  of  a  mess,  and  if  you  hide  me 
here  until  it  has  blown  over,  I'll  make  it  worth  your 
while." 

"  How  much  ?  "  said  the  old  man. 

Flower  hesitated.  "  Five  pounds  for  certain," 
he  said,  hastily,  "and  more  if  you're  put  to  much 
trouble.  Run  down  and  stop  your  wife's  mouth 
quietly." 

"  Don't  order  me  about,"  said  the  old  man, 
slowly  ;  "  I  ain't  said  I'll  do  it  yet." 

"  They're  coming  now,"  said  Flower,  impatiently  ; 
"  mind,  if  they  catch  me  you  lose  your  five  pounds." 

"All  right,"  said  the  other.  "I'm  doing  it  for 
the  five  pounds,  mind,  not  for  you,"  added  this 
excellent  man. 

He  went  grunting  and  groaning  down  the  nar- 
row stairs,  and  the  skipper,  closing  the  door,  went 
and  crouched  down  by  the  open  casement.  A  few 
indistinct  words  were  borne  in  on  the  still  air,  and 
voices  came  gradually  closer,  until  footsteps,  which 


220  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

had  been  deadened  by  the  grass,  became  suddenly 
audible  on  the  stones  outside  the  cottage. 

Flower  held  his  breath  with  anxiety ;  then  he 
smiled  softly  and  pleasantly  as  he  listened  to  the 
terms  in  which  his  somewhat  difficult  host  was 
addressed. 

"  Now,  gaffer/'  said  the  man  of  the  gig,  roughly. 

"  Wake  up,  grandpa,"  said  Dick  Tipping  ;  "  have 
you  seen  a  man  go  by  here? — blue  serge  suit, 
moustache,  face  and  head  knocked  about  ?  " 

"  No,  I  ain't  seen  'im,"  was  the  reply.  "  What's 
he  done?  " 

Tipping  told  him  briefly.  "  We'll  have  him,"  he 
said,  savagely.  "  We've  got  a  mounted  policeman 
on  the  job,  besides  others.  If  you  can  catch  him 
it's  worth  half  a  sov.  to  you." 

He  went  off  hurriedly  with  the  other  man,  and 
their  voices  died  away  in  the  distance.  Flower  sat 
in  his  place  on  the  floor  for  some  time,  and  then, 
seeing  from  the  window  that  the  coast  was  clear, 
went  downstairs  again. 

The  old  woman  made  him  up  a  bed  on  the  floor 
after  supper,  although  both  he  and  the  old  man 
assured  her  that  it  was  unnecessary,  and  then,  taking 
the  lamp,  bade  him  good-night  and  went  upstairs. 

Flower,  left  to  himself,  rolled  exultingly  on  his 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  221 

poor  couch,  and  for  the   first  time   in  a  fortnight 
breathed  freely. 

"If  I  do  get  into  trouble,"  he  murmured,  com- 
placently, "  I  generally  manage  to  get  out  of  it. 
It  wants  a  good  head  in  the  first  place,  and  a  cool 
one  in  the  second." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

HE  was  awake  early  in  the  morning,  and,  opening 
the  door,  stood  delightedly  breathing  the  fresh, 
pine-scented  air. 

The  atmosphere  of  the  Blue  Posts  was  already 
half  forgotten,  and  he  stood  looking  dreamily  for- 
ward to  the  time  when  he  might  reasonably  return 
to  life  and  Poppy.  He  took  a  few  steps  into  the 
wood  and,  after  feeling  for  his  pipe  before  he  re- 
membered that  Miss  Tipping  was  probably  keeping 
it  as  a  souvenir,  sat  on  a  freshly-cut  log  and  fell 
into  a  sentimental  reverie,  until  the  appearance  of 
a  restless  old  man  at  the  door  of  the  cottage  took 
him  back  to  breakfast. 

"  I  thought  you'd  run  off,"  said  his  host,  tartly. 

"  You  thought  wrong,  then,"  said  Flower,  sharply, 
as  he  took  out  his  purse.  "  Here  are  two  of  the 
five  pounds  I  promised  you  ;  I'll  give  you  the  rest 
when  I  go." 

The  old  man  took  the  money  and  closed  his 
small,  hard  mouth  until  the  lips  almost  disappeared. 
"  More  money  than  sense,"  he  remarked,  cordially, 
as  the  skipper  replaced  his  purse. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  223 

Flower  made  no  reply.  Some  slices  of  fat  bacon 
were  sizzling  in  a  pan  over  the  wood-fire,  and  the 
pungent  smell  of  the  woods,  mixed  with  the  sharp- 
ness of  the  morning  air,  gave  him  an  appetite  to 
which,  since  his  enforced  idleness,  he  had  been  a 
stranger.  He  drew  his  chair  up  to  the  rickety  little 
table  with  its  covering  of  frayed  oil-cloth,  and, 
breaking  a  couple  of  eggs  over  his  bacon,  set  to 
eagerly. 

"  Don't  get  eggs  like  these  in  London,"  he  said 
to  the  old  woman. 

The  old  woman  leaned  over  and,  inspecting  the 
shells,  paid  a  tribute  to  the  hens  who  were  responsi- 
ble for  them,  and  traced  back  a  genealogy  which 
would  have  baffled  the  entire  College  of  Heralds — 
a  genealogy  hotly  contested  by  the  old  man,  who 
claimed  a  bar  sinister  through  three  eggs  bought 
at  the  village  shop  some  generations  before. 

"You've  got  a  nice  little  place  here,"  said  Flower, 
by  way  of  changing  the  conversation,  which  was 
well  on  the  way  to  becoming  personal ;  "  but  don't 
you  find  it  rather  dull  sometimes?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  old  woman.  "  I 
finds  plenty  to  do,  and  'e  potters  about  like.  'E 
don't  do  much,  but  it  pleases  'im,  and  it  don't  hurt 
me." 


224  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

The  object  of  these  compliments  took  them  as  a 
matter  of  course,  and  after  hunting  up  the  stump  of 
last  night's  cigar,  and  shredding  it  with  his  knife, 
crammed  it  into  a  clay  pipe  and  smoked  tranquilly. 
Flower  found  a  solitary  cigar,  one  of  the  Blue  Posts' 
best,  and  with  a  gaze  which  wandered  idly  from 
the  chest  of  drawers  on  one  side  of  the  room  to  the 
old  china  dogs  on  the  little  mantel-shelf  on  the  other, 
smoked  in  silence. 

The  old  man  brought  in  news  at  dinner-time. 
The  village  was  ringing  with  the  news  of  yesterday's 
affair,  and  a  rigourous  search,  fanned  into  excite- 
ment by  an  offer  of  two  pounds  reward,  was  taking 
the  place  of  the  more  prosaic  labours  of  the  country, 
side. 

"  If  it  wasn't  for  me,"  said  the  old  man,  in  an 
excess  of  self-laudation,  "you'd  be  put  in  the  gaol 
— where  you  ought  to  be ;  but  I  wouldn't  do  it  if  it 
wasn't  for  the  five  pounds.  You'd  better  keep 
close  in  the  house.  There's  some  more  of  'em  in 
the  wood  looking  for  you." 

Captain  Flower  took  his  advice,  and  for  the  next 
two  days  became  a  voluntary  prisoner.  On  the 
third  day  the  old  man  reported  that  public  ex- 
citement about  him  was  dying  out,  owing  partly 
to  the  fact  that  it  thought  the  villain  must  have 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  225 

made  his  escape  good,  and  partly  to  the  fact  that 
the  landlord  of  the  Wheatsheaf  had  been  sitting  at 
his  front  door  shooting  at  snakes  on  the  King's 
Highway  invisible  to  ordinary  folk. 

The  skipper  resolved  to  make  a  start  on  the  fol- 
lowing evening,  walking  the  first  night  so  as  to  get 
out  of  the  dangerous  zone,  and  then  training  to 
London.  At  the  prospect  his  spirits  rose,  and  in  a 
convivial  mood  he  purchased  a  bottle  of  red  currant 
wine  from  the  old  woman  at  supper,  and  handed  it 
round. 

He  was  still  cheerful  next  morning  as  he  arose 
and  began  to  dress.  Then  he  paused,  and  in  a 
somewhat  anxious  fashion  patted  his  trousers  pock- 
ets. Minute  and  painful  investigation  revealed  a 
bunch  of  keys  and  a  clasp-knife. 

He  tried  his  other  pockets,  and  then,  sinking  in  a 
dazed  fashion  into  a  chair,  tried  to  think  what  had 
become  of  his  purse  and  loose  change.  His  watch, 
a  silver  one,  was  under  his  pillow,  where  he  had 
placed  it  the  night  before,  and  his  ready  cash  was 
represented  by  the  shilling  which  hung  upon  the 
chain. 

He  completed  his  dressing  slowly  while  walking 
about  the  room,  looking  into  all  sorts  of  likely  and 
unlikely  hiding-places  for  his  money,  and  at  length 


226  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

gave  up  the  search  in  disgust,  and  sat  down  to  wait 
until  such  time  as  his  host  should  appear.  It  was  a 
complication  for  which  he  had  not  bargained,  and 
unable  to  endure  the  suspense  any  longer,  he  put  his 
head  up  the  stairway  and  bawled  to  the  old  man 
to  come  down. 

"  What's  the  matter  now  ?  "  demanded  the  old 
man  as  he  came  downstairs,  preceded  by  his  wife. 
"  One  would  think  the  place  belonged  to  you,  mak- 
ing all  that  noise." 

"  I've  lost  my  purse,"  said  Flower,  regarding  him 
sternly.  "  My  purse  has  been  taken  out  of  one 
pocket  and  some  silver  out  of  the  other  while  I  was 
asleep." 

The  old  man  raised  his  eyebrows  at  his  wife  and 
scratched  his  chin  roughly. 

"  I  s'pose  you've  lost  my  three  pounds  along  with 
it  ?  "  he  said,  raspily. 

"  Where's  my  purse  ? "  demanded  the  skipper, 
roughly ;  "  don't  play  the  fool  with  me.  It  won't 
pay." 

"  I  don't  know  nothing  about  your  purse,"  said 
the  other,  regarding  him  closely  with  his  littla 
bloodshot  eyes  ;  "  you're  trying  to  do  me  out  o'  my 
three  pounds — me  what's  took  you  in  and  'id  you.'* 

The  incensed  skipper  made  no  reply,  but,  passing 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  227 

upstairs,  turned  the  bed-room  topsy-turvy  in  a 
wild  search  for  his  property.  It  was  unsuccessful, 
and  he  came  down  with  a  look  in  his  face  which 
made  his  respected  host  get  close  to  his  wife. 

"  Are  you  going  to  give  me  my  money  ? "  de- 
manded he,  striding  up  to  him. 

"  I've  not  got  your  money,"  snarled  the  other. 
M  I'm  an  honest  man." 

He  started  back  in  alarm,  and  his  wife  gave  a 
faint  scream  as  Flower  caught  him  by  the  collar, 
and,  holding  him  against  the  wall,  went  through 
his  pockets. 

"  Don't  hurt  him,"  cried  the  old  woman ;  "  he's 
only  a  little  old  man." 

"  If  you  were  younger  and  bigger/'  said  the 
Infuriated  skipper,  as  he  gave  up  the  fruitless 
search,  "  I'd  thrash  you  till  you  gave  it  up." 

"  I'm  an  honest  man,"  said  the  other,  recovering 
himself  as  he  saw  that  his  adversary  intended  no 
violence  ;  "  if  you  think  I've  stole  your  money,  you 
know  what  you  can  do." 

"  What  ?"  demanded  Flower. 

"  Go  to  the  police,"  said  the  old  man,  his  little 
slit  of  a  mouth  twisted  into  a  baleful  grin  ;  "  if  you 
think  I've  stole  your  money,  go  and  tell  the  police." 

"  Let  'em  come  and  search  the  house,"  said  the 


228  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

old  woman,  plucking  up  spirit.  "  I've  been  married 
forty-two  years  and  'ad  seven  children.  Go  and 
fetch  the  police." 

Flower  stared  at  them  in  wrathful  concern. 
Threats  were  of  no  use,  and  violence  was  out  of  the 
question.  He  went  to  the  door,  and  leaning  against 
it,  stood  there  deep  in  thought  until,  after  a  time, 
the  old  woman,  taking  courage  from  his  silence, 
began  to  prepare  breakfast.  Then  he  turned,  and 
drawing  his  chair  up  to  the  table,  ate  silently. 

He  preserved  this  silence  all  day  despite  the 
occasional  suggestion  of  the  old  man  that  he  should 
go  for  the  police,  and  the  aggrieved  refrain  of  the 
old  woman  as  to  the  length  of  her  married  life  and 
the  number  of  her  offspring. 

He  left  at  night  without  a  word.  The  old  man 
smiled  almost  amiably  to  see  him  go ;  and  the  old 
woman,  who  had  been  in  a  state  of  nervous  trepida- 
tion all  day,  glanced  at  her  husband  with  a  look  in 
which  wifely  devotion  and  admiration  were  almost 
equally  blended. 

Flower  passed  slowly  through  the  wood,  and 
after  pausing  to  make  sure  that  he  was  not  followed, 
struck  across  the  fields,  and,  with  his  sailor's  knowl- 
edge of  the  stars,  steered  by  them  in  the  direction 
of  London. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  229 

He  walked  all  that  night  unmolested,  his  foot 
giving  him  but  little  trouble,  and  passed  the  follow- 
ing day  under  a  haystack,  assuaging  his  hunger 
with  some  bread  and  cheese  he  had  put  in  his 
pocket. 

Travelling  by  night  and  sleeping  in  secluded 
spots  by  day,  he  reached  the  city  in  three  days. 
Considering  that  he  had  no  money,  and  was  afraid 
to  go  into  a  town  to  pawn  his  watch,  he  did  not 
suffer  so  much  from  hunger  as  might  have  been  ex- 
pected— something  which  he  vaguely  referred  to  as 
Providence,  but  for  which  the  sufferers  found  other 
terms,  twice  leading  his  faltering  footsteps  to 
labourers'  dinners  in  tin  cans  and  red  handker- 
chiefs. 

At  Stratford  he  pawned  his  watch  and  chain  and 
sat  down  to  a  lengthy  meal,  and  then,  with  nearly 
eighteen  shillings  in  his  pocket,  took  train  to  Liver- 
pool Street.  The  roar  of  the  city  greeted  his  ears 
like  music,  and,  investing  in  a  pipe  and  tobacco,  he 
got  on  a  'bus  bound  eastward,  and  securing  cheap 
apartments  in  the  Mile  End  Road,  sat  down  to  con- 
sider his  plans.  The  prompt  appearance  of  the 
Tipping  family  after  his  letter  to  Fraser  had  given 
him  a  wholesome  dread  of  the  post,  and  until  the 
connection  between  the  two  was  satisfactorily  ex- 


230  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

plained  he  would  not  risk  another,  even  in  his  new 
name  of  Thompson.  Having  come  to  this  decision, 
he  had  another  supper,  and  then  went  upstairs  to 
the  unwonted  luxury  of  a  bed. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

IT  is  one  of  the  first  laws  of  domestic  economy 
that  the  largest  families  must  inhabit  the  smallest 
houses — a  state  of  things  which  is  somewhat  awk- 
ward when  the  heads  wish  to  discuss  affairs  of  state. 
Some  preserve  a  certain  amount  of  secrecy  by  the 
use  of  fragmentary  sentences  eked  out  by  nods  and 
blinks  and  by  the  substitution  of  capital  letters  for 
surnames ;  a  practice  likely  to  lead  to  much  confu- 
sion and  scandal  when  the  names  of  several  friends 
begin  with  the  same  letter.  Others  improve  the 
family  orthography  to  an  extent  they  little  dream 
of  by  spelling  certain  vital  words  instead  of  pro- 
nouncing them,  some  children  profiting  so  much  by 
this  form  of  vicarious  instruction  that  they  have 
been  known  to  close  a  most  interesting  conversation 
by  thoughtlessly  correcting  their  parents  on  a  point 
of  spelling. 

There  were  but  few  secrets  in  the  Wheeler  family, 
the  younger  members  relating  each  other's  misdeeds 
quite  freely,  and  refuting  the  charge  of  tale-bear- 
ing by  keeping  debit  and  credit  accounts  with  each 
other  in  which  assets  and  liabilities  could  usually 


232  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

be  balanced  by  simple  addition.  Among  the  elders, 
the  possession  of  a  present  secret  merely  meant  a 
future  conversation. 

On  this  day  the  juniors  were  quite  certain  that 
secret  proceedings  of  a  highly  interesting  nature 
were  in  the  air.  Miss  Tyrell  having  been  out  since 
the  morning,  Mrs.  Wheeler  was  looking  forward 
anxiously  to  her  return  with  the  view  of  holding  a 
little  private  conversation  with  her,  and  the  entire 
Wheeler  family  were  no  less  anxious  to  act  as  audi- 
ence for  the  occasion.  Mr.  Bob  Wheeler  had 
departed  to  his  work  that  morning  in  a  condition 
which  his  family,  who  were  fond  of  homely  similes, 
had  likened  to  a  bear  with  a  sore  head.  The  sisterly 
attentions  of  Emma  Wheeler  were  met  with  a  boor- 
ish request  to  keep  her  paws  off ;  and  a  young 
Wheeler,  rash  and  inexperienced  in  the  way  of  this 
weary  world,  who  publicly  asked  what  Bob  had 
"got  the  hump  about,"  was  sternly  ordered  to  finish 
his  breakfast  in  the  washhouse.  Consequently 
there  was  a  full  meeting  after  tea,  and  when  Poppy 
entered,  it  was  confidently  expected  that  proceed- 
ings would  at  once  open  with  a  speech  from  the 
sofa. 

"  Take  the  children  outside  a  bit,  Belinda,"  said 
her  mother,  after  the  tea  things  had  been  removed. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  233 

"  Got  my  'ome  lessons  to  do,"  said  Belinda. 

"  Do  'em  when  you  come  back,"  said  Mrs. 
Wheeler. 

"  Sha'n't  'ave  time,"  replied  Belinda,  taking  her 
books  from  a  shelf  ;  "  they'll  take  me  all  the  even- 
ing. We've  all  got  a  lot  of  'ome  lessons  to-night." 

"  Never  mind,  you  take  'em  out,"  persisted  Mrs. 
Wheeler. 

"  When  I  want  to  go  out,"  said  Belinda,  rebel- 
liously,  "  you  won't  let  me." 

"  Do  as  your  mother  tells  you,"  commanded 
Mr.  Wheeler,  with  excellent  sternness. 

"  I  want  a  little  quiet,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler  ;  "  a 
little  fresh  air  will  do  you  good,  Peter." 

"  I'll  go  and  smoke  my  pipe  in  the  washhouse," 
said  Mr.  Wheeler,  who  had  his  own  notions  of 
healthful  recreation. 

"Take  your  pipe  outside,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler, 
significantly.  "  Did  you  'ear  what  I  said,  Belinda  ?  " 

Belinda  rose  noisily  and  gathering  up  her  untidy 
books,  thrust  them  back  in  a  heap  on  the  shelf,  and 
putting  on  her  hat  stood  at  the  door  commenting 
undutifully  upon  her  parents,  and  shrilly  demanding 
of  the  small  Wheelers  whether  they  were  coming  or 
whether  she  was  to  stay  there  all  night.  She  also 
indulged  in  dreary  prognostications  concerning  her 


234  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

future,  and  finally  driving  her  small  fry  before  her, 
closed  the  street  door  with  a  bang  which  induced 
Mrs.  Wheeler  to  speak  of  heredity  and  Mr.  Wheeler's 
sister  Jane's  temper. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Poppy?"  she  enquired, 
as  the  girl  rose  to  follow  the  dutiful  Mr.  Wheeler. 
"  I  want  to  speak  to  you  a  moment." 

The  girl  resumed  her  seat,  and  taking  up  a  small 
garment  intended  for  the  youngest  Wheeler  but 
two,  or  the  youngest  but  one,  whichever  it  happened 
to  fit  best,  or  whichever  wanted  it  first,  stitched  on 
in  silence.  "  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about  Bob," 
said  Mrs.  Wheeler,  impressively.  "  Of  course  you 
know  he  never  keeps  anything  from  his  mother. 
He  'as  told  me  about  all  the  gells  he  has  walked 
out  with,  and  though,  of  course,  he  'as  been  much 
run  after,  he  is  three-and-twenty  and  not  married 
yet.  He  told  me  that  none  of  'em  seemed  to  be 
worthy  of  him." 

She  paused  for  so  long  that  Poppy  Tyrell  looked 
up  from  her  work,  said  "Yes,"  in  an  expressionless 
manner,  and  waited  for  her  to  continue. 

"  He's  been  a  good  son,"  said  the  mother,  fondly ; 
"  never  no  trouble,  always  been  pertickler,  and 
always  quite  the  gentleman.  He  always  smokes 
his  cigar  of  a  Sunday,  and  I  remember  the  very 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  235 

first  money  'e  ever  earned  'e  spent  on  a  cane  with 
a  dog's  'ed  to  it." 

"  Yes,"  said  Poppy  again. 

"The  gells  he's  'ad  after  'im  wouldn't  be  be- 
lieved," said  Mrs.  Wheeler,  shaking  her  head  with  a 
tender  smile  at  a  hole  in  the  carpet.  "  Before  you 
came  here  there  was  a  fresh  one  used  to  come  in 
every  Sunday  almost,  but  'e  couldn't  make  up  his 
mind.  We  used  to  joke  him  about  it." 

"  He's  very  young  still,"  said  Poppy. 

"  He's  old  enough  to  be  married,"  said  Mrs. 
Wheeler.  "  He's  told  me  all  about  you,  he  never 
has  no  secrets  from  'is  mother.  He  told  me  that 
he  asked  you  to  walk  out  with  'im  last  night  and  you 
said  *  No  ' ;  but  I  told  'im  that  that  was  only  a  gell's 
way,  and  that  you'd  give  'im  another  answer  soon." 

"  That  was  my  final  answer,"  said  Poppy  Tyrell, 
the  corners  of  her  mouth  hardening.  "  I  shall 
never  say  anything  else." 

"All  young  gells  say  that  at  first,"  said  Mrs. 
Wheeler,  making  praiseworthy  efforts  to  keep  her 
temper.  "  Wheeler  'ad  to  ask  me  five  times." 

"  I  meant  what  I  said,"  said  Poppy,  stitching 
industriously.  "  I  shall  never  change  my  mind." 

"  It's  early  days  to  ask  you  perhaps,  so  soon  after 
Captain  Flower's  death,"  suggested  Mrs.  Wheeler. 


236  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  That  has  nothing  at  all  to  do  with  it,"  said  the 
girl.  "  I  shall  not  marry  your  son,  in  any  case." 

"  Not  good  enough  for  you,  I  suppose?"  said 
the  other,  her  eyes  snapping.  "  In  my  time  beggars 
couldn't  be  choosers." 

"  They  can't  choose  much  now,"  said  Poppy,  in 
a  low  voice ;  "  but  as  you  know  I'm  going  to  a 
situation  on  Monday,  I  shall  soon  be  able  to  pay  off 
my  debt  to  you :  though,  of  course,  I  can't  repay 
you  for  your  kindness  in  letting  me  live  here  when 
I  had  nowhere  else  to  go." 

"  It  isn't  me  you  owe  it  to,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler. 
"  I'm  sure  I  couldn't  'ave  afforded  to  do  it  what- 
ever Wheeler  liked  to  say  if  Bob  hadn't  come  for- 
ward and  paid  for  you." 

"Bob?"  cried  Poppy,  springing  to  her  feet  and 
dropping  her  work  onto  the  floor. 

"  Yes,  Bob,"  said  the  other,  melodramatically ; 
"  *im  what  isn't  good  enough  to  be  your  husband." 

"I  didn't  know,"  said  the  girl,  brokenly;  "you 
should  have  told  me.  I  would  sooner  starve.  I 
would  sooner  beg  in  the  streets.  I  will  go  at 
once." 

"  I  daresay  you  know  where  to  go,  so  I  sha'n't 
worry  about  you,"  replied  Mrs.  Wheeler.  "  You 
quiet  ones  are  generally  the  worst." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  237 

"  I  am  sorry,"  murmured  Poppy  ;  "  I  did  not 
mean  to  be  rude,  or  ungrateful." 

"You're  very  kind,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler.  "Is 
Mr.  Fraser  up  in  London  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  the  girl,  pausing 
at  the  door. 

"  Sure  to  be,  though,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler,  signifi- 
cantly ;  "  you  won't  'ave  to  starve,  my  dear.  But, 
there,  you  know  that — some  people's  pride  is  a 
funny  thing." 

Miss  Tyrell  regarded  her  for  a  moment  in  silence, 
and  then  quitted  the  room,  coming  back  again  from 
half-way  up  the  stairs  to  answer  a  knock  at  the 
door.  She  opened  it  slowly,  and  discovered  to  her 
horror  Mr.  Fraser  standing  upon  the  doorstep,  with 
a  smile  which  was  meant  to  be  propitiatory,  but 
only  succeeded  in  being  uneasy. 

"  Is  that  Mr.  Fraser?"  demanded  Mrs.  Wheeler's 
voice,  shrilly. 

"That's  me,"  said  Fraser,  heartily,  as  he  shook 
hands  with  Poppy  and  entered  the  room. 

"  I  thought  you  wouldn't  be  far  off,"  said  Mrs. 
Wheeler,  in  an  unpleasant  voice.  "  Poppy's  been 
expecting  you." 

"  I  didn't  know  that  Mr.  Fraser  was  coming," 
said  Poppy,  as  the  helpless  man  looked  from  one  to 


238  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

the  other.  "  I  suppose  he  has  come  to  see  you. 
He  has  not  come  to  see  me." 

"Yes,  I  have,"  said  Mr.  Fraser,  calmly.  "I 
wanted " 

But  Miss  Tyrell  had  gone  quietly  upstairs,  leav- 
ing him  to  gaze  in  a  perturbed  fashion  at  the  sickly 
and  somewhat  malicious  face  on  the  sofa. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  he  enquired. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler. 

"Isn't  Miss  Tyrell  well?" 

"  So  far  as  I'm  permitted  to  know  the  state  of  'er 
'ealth,  she  is,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Mr.  Wheeler  well  ?  "  enquired  Fraser,  after  a 
long  pause. 

"  Very  well,  I  thank  you,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler. 

"And  Miss  Wheeler,  and  Bob,  and  the  whole 
pa and  all  of  them  ?  "  said  Fraser. 

"  All  very  well,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler. 

His  stock  of  conversation  being  exhausted  he  sat 
glancing  uncomfortably  round  the  littered  room, 
painfully  conscious  that  Mrs.  Wheeler  was  regard- 
ing him  with  a  glance  that  was  at  once  hostile  and 
impatient.  While  he  was  wondering  whether  Miss 
Tyrell  had  gone  upstairs  for  a  permanency,  he 
heard  her  step  on  the  stairs,  and  directly  afterwards 
she  appeared  at  the  door  with  her  hat  and  jacket  on. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  239 

"  Good-bye,  Mrs.  Wheeler,"  she  said,  gravely. 

"  Good-bye,"  said  Mrs.  Wheeler,  in  the  same  way 
that  a  free-speaking  woman  would  have  said 
"  Good-riddance." 

The  girl's  eyes  rested  for  a  moment  on  Fraser. 
Then  she  bade  him  good-bye,  and,  opening  the  door, 
passed  into  the  street. 

Fraser  looked  at  Mrs.  Wheeler  in  perplexity, 
then,  jumping  up  suddenly  as  Poppy  passed  the 
window,  he  crossed  to  the  door. 

"Good-bye,  Mrs.  Wheeler,"  he  shouted,  and, 
vaguely  conscious  that  something  was  wrong  some- 
where, dashed  off  in  pursuit. 

Poppy  Tyrell,  her  face  pale  and  her  eyes  burning, 
quickened  her  pace  as  she  heard  hurrying  footsteps 
behind  her. 

"  I  just  wanted  a  few  words  with  you,  Miss 
Tyrell,"  said  Fraser,  somewhat  breathlessly. 

"  I — I  am  going  on  business,"  said  Poppy,  in  a 
quiet  voice. 

"  I  didn't  understand  Mrs.  Wheeler  just  now," 
said  Fraser.  "  I  hope  you  didn't  mind  my  call- 
ing?" 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  the  girl ;  "  call  as  often  as  you 
like,  but  this  evening  I'm  busy.  Come  to-mor- 
row." 


240  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

This  hospitality  over-reached  itself.  "  Have  you 
left  the  Wheelers  ?  "  he  enquired,  suddenly. 

"  Yes,"  said  Poppy,  simply. 

"  What's  the  good  of  telling  me  to  call,  then  ?  " 
enquired  Eraser,  bluntly. 

"  They  will  be  pleased  to  see  you,  I'm  sure," 
said  Miss  Tyrell. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  asked  Fraser. 

Miss  Tyrell  made  no  reply,  except  to  favour  him 
with  a  glance  which  warned  him  not  to  repeat  the 
question,  and  he  walked  beside  her  for  some  time 
in  silence. 

"  Good-bye,"  she  said,  suddenly. 

"  I'm  not  going,"  said  Fraser,  with  artless  sur- 
prise. 

"  Mr.  Fraser,"  said  the  girl,  reddening  with  anger, 
"  will  you  please  understand  that  I  wish  to  be 
alone  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Fraser,  doggedly. 

"  A  gentleman  would  not  have  to  have  half  as 
much  said  to  him,"  said  Poppy,  trembling. 

"  Well,  thank  God,  I'm  not  a  gentleman,"  said 
Fraser,  calmly. 

"  If  I  had  a  father  or  a  brother  you  would  not 
behave  like  this,"  said  the  girl. 

"  If  you  had  a  father  or  a  brother  they  would  do 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  241 

it  instead,"  said  Fraser,  gently  ;  "  it's  just  because 
you've  got  nobody  else  that  I'm  looking  after  you." 

Miss  Tyrell,  who  had  softened  slightly,  stiffened 
again  with  temper. 

"  You  ?  "  she  said,  hotly.  "  What  right  have  you 
to  trouble  yourself  about  me?  " 

"  No  right  at  all,"  said  Fraser,  cheerfully,  "  but 
I'm  going  to  do  it.  If  you've  left  the  Wheelers, 
where  are  you  going  ?  " 

Miss  Tyrell,  gazing  straight  in  front  of  her,  made 
no  reply. 

"  Won't  you  tell  me  ?  "  persisted  the  other. 

"  I'm  not  going  anywhere,"  said  Poppy,  stopping 
suddenly  and  facing  him.  "  I've  got  a  new  berth 
next  Monday,  and  to-morrow  morning  I  am  going 
to  see  them  to  ask  them  to  employ  me  at  once." 

"  And  to-night  ?  "  suggested  the  other. 

"  I  shall  go  for  a  walk,"  said  the  girl.  "  Now 
that  you  know  all  about  my  concerns,  will  you 
please  go  ?  " 

"  Walk  ?  "  repeated  Fraser.  «  Walk  ?  What,  all 
night  ?  You  can't  do  it — you  don't  know  what  it's 
like.  Will  you  let  me  lend  you  some  money? 
You  can  repay  me  as  soon  as  you  like." 

"  No,  thank  you." 

"  For  my  sake  ?  "  he  suggested. 


242  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

Miss  Tyrell  raised  her  eyebrows. 

"  I'm  a  bad  walker,"  he  explained. 

The  reply  trembling  on  Miss  Tyrell's  lips  realised 
that  it  was  utterly  inadequate  to  the  occasion,  and 
remained  unspoken.  She  walked  on  in  silence, 
apparently  oblivious  of  the  man  by  her  side,  and 
when  he  next  spoke  to  her  made  no  reply.  He 
glanced  at  a  clock  in  a  baker's  shop  as  they  passed, 
and  saw  that  it  was  just  seven. 

In  this  sociable  fashion  they  walked  along  the 
Commercial  Road  and  on  to  Aldgate,  and  then, 
passing  up  Fenchurch  Street,  mingled  with  the 
crowd  thronging  homewards  over  London  Bridge. 
They  went  as  far  as  Kennington  in  this  direction, 
and  then  the  girl  turned  and  walked  back  to  the 
City.  Fraser,  glancing  at  the  pale  profile  beside 
him,  ventured  to  speak  again. 

"  Will  you  come  down  to  Wapping  and  take  my 
cabin  for  the  night  ?  "  he  asked,  anxiously.  "  The 
mate's  away,  and  I  can  turn  in  fo'ard — you  can 
have  it  all  to  yourself." 

Miss  Tyrell,  still  looking  straight  in  front  of  her, 
made  no  reply,  but  with  another  attempt  to  shake 
off  this  pertinacious  young  man  of  the  sea  quickened 
her  pace  again.  Fraser  fell  back. 

"  If   I'm    not    fit   to   walk  beside  you,  I'll  walk 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  243 

behind,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice;  "you  won't  mind 
that  ?  " 

In  this  way  they  walked  through  the  rapidly 
thinning  streets.  It  was  now  dark,  and  most  of  the 
shops  had  closed.  The  elasticity  had  departed 
from  Miss  Tyrell's  step,  and  she  walked  aimlessly, 
noting  with  a  sinking  at  the  heart  the  slowly  passing 
time.  Once  or  twice  she  halted  from  sheer  weari- 
ness, Fraser  halting  too,  and  watching  her  with  a 
sympathy  of  which  Flower  would  most  certainly 
have  disapproved  if  he  had  seen  it. 

At  length,  in  a  quiet  street  beyond  Stratford,  she 
not  only  stopped,  but  turned  and  walked  slowly 
back.  Fraser  turned  too,  and  his  heart  beat  as  he 
fancied  that  she  intended  to  overtake  him.  He 
quickened  his  pace  in  time  with  the  steps  behind 
him  until  they  slackened  and  faltered ;  then  he 
looked  round  and  saw  her  standing  in  the  centre  of 
the  pathway  with  her  head  bent.  He  walked  back 
slowly  until  he  stood  beside  her,  and  saw  that  she 
was  crying  softly.  He  placed  his  hand  on  her  arm. 

"  Go  away,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  I  shall  not." 

"You  walked  away  from  me  just  now." 

"  I  was  a  brute,"  said  Fraser,  vehemently. 

The  arm  beneath  his  hand  trembled,"and  he  drew 


244  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

it  unresistingly  through  his  own.  In  the  faint 
light  from  the  lamp  opposite  he  saw  her  look  at 
him. 

"  I'm  very  tired,"  she  said,  and  leaned  on  him 
trustfully.  "  Were  you  really  going  to  leave  me 
just  now?" 

"  You  know  I  was  not,"  said  Fraser,  simply. 

Miss  Tyrell,  walking  very  slowly,  pondered.  "  I 
should  never  have  forgiven  you  if  you  had,"  she 
said,  thoughtfully.  "  I'm  so  tired,  I  can  hardly 
stand.  You  must  take  me  to  your  ship." 

They  walked  slowly  to  the  end  of  the  road,  but 
the  time  seemed  very  short  to  Fraser.  As  far  as  he 
was  concerned  he  would  willingly  have  dispensed 
with  the  tram  which  they  met  at  the  end  and  the 
antique  four-wheeler  in  which  they  completed  their 
journey  to  the  river.  They  found  a  waterman's 
skiff  at  the  stairs,  and  sat  side  by  side  in  the  stern, 
looking  contentedly  over  the  dark  water,  as  the 
waterman  pulled  in  the  direction  of  the  Swallow, 
which  was  moored  in  the  tier.  There  was  no  re- 
sponse to  their  hail,  and  Fraser  himself,  clambering 
over  the  side  with  the  painter,  assisted  Miss  Tyrell, 
who,  as  the  daughter  of  one  sailor  and  the  guest  of 
another,  managed  to  throw  off  her  fatigue  suffi- 
ciently to  admire  the  lines  of  the  small  steamer. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  245 

Fraser  conducted  her  to  the  cabin,  and  motioning 
her  to  a  seat  on  the  locker,  went  forward  to  see 
about  some  supper.  He  struck  a  match  in  the 
forecastle  and  scrutinised  the  sleepers,  and  coming 
to  the  conclusion  that  something  which  was  lying 
doubled  up  in  a  bunk,  with  its  head  buried  in  the 
pillow,  was  the  cook,  shook  it  vigourously. 

"  Did  you  want  the  cook,  sir  ?  "  said  a  voice  from 
another  bunk. 

"  Yes,"  said  Fraser,  sharply,  as  he  punched  the 
figure  again  and  again. 

"  Pore  cookie  ain't  well,  sir,"  said  the  seaman, 
sympathetically  ;  "  'e's  been  very  delikit  all  this 
evenin'  ;  that's  the  worst  o*  them  teetotalers." 

"All  right;  that'll  do,"  said  the  skipper,  sharply, 
as  he  struck  another  match,  and  gave  the  invalid  a 
final  disgusted  punch.  "  Where's  the  boy  ?  " 

A  small,  dirty  face  with  matted  hair  protruded 
from  the  bunk  above  the  cook  and  eyed  him 
sleepily. 

"  Get  some  supper,"  said  Fraser,  "  quick." 

"Supper,  sir?"  said  the  boy  with  a  surprised 
yawn. 

"  And  be  quick  about  it,"  said  the  skipper,  "  and 
wash  you  face  first  and  put  a  comb  through  your 
hair.  Come,  out  you  get." 


246  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

The  small  sleeper  sighed  disconsolately,  and, 
first  extending  one  slender  leg,  clambered  out  and 
began  to  dress,  yawning  pathetically  as  he  did  so. 

"And  some  coffee,"  said  Fraser,  as  he  lit  the 
lamp  and  turned  to  depart. 

"  Bill,"  said  the  small  boy,  indignantly. 

"  Wot  d'ye  want  ?  "  said  the  seaman. 

"  'Elp  me  to  wake  that  drunken  pig  up,"  said  the 
youth,  pointing  a  resentful  finger  at  the  cook.  "  I 
ain't  goin'  to  do  all  the  work." 

"You  leave  'im  alone,"  said  Bill,  ferociously. 
The  cook  had  been  very  liberal  that  evening,  and 
friendship  is  friendship,  after  all. 

"That's  what  a  chap  gets  by  keeping  hisself 
sober,"  said  the  youthful  philosopher,  as  he  poured 
a  little  cold  tea  out  of  the  kettle  on  his  handker- 
chief and  washed  himself.  "  Other  people's  work 
to  do." 

He  went  grumbling  up  to  the  galley,  and,  light- 
ing some  sticks,  put  the  kettle  on,  and  then  de- 
scended  to  the  cabin,  starting  with  genuine  sur- 
prise as  he  saw  the  skipper  sitting  opposite  a  pretty 
girl,  who  was  leaning  back  in  her  seat  fast  asleep. 

"  Cook'll  be  sorry  'e  missed  this,"  he  murmured, 
as  he  lighted  up  and  began  briskly  to  set  the  table. 
He  ran  up  on  deck  again  to  see  how  his  fire 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  247 

was  progressing,  and  thrusting  his  head  down  the 
forecastle  communicated  the  exciting  news  to 
Bill. 

To  Fraser  sitting  watching  his  sleeping  guest  it 
seemed  like  a  beautiful  dream.  That  Poppy  Tyrell 
should  be  sitting  in  his  cabin  and  looking  to  him  as 
her  only  friend  seemed  almost  incredible.  A  sudden 
remembrance  of  Flower  subdued  at  once  the  ardour 
of  his  gaze,  and  he  sat  wondering  vaguely  as  to  the 
whereabouts  of  that  erratic  mariner  until  his  medi- 
tations were  broken  by  the  entrance  of  the  boy  with 
the  steaming  coffee,  followed  by  Bill  bearing  a 
couple  of  teaspoons. 

"  I  nearly  went  to  sleep,"  said  Poppy,  as  Fraser 
roused  her  gently. 

She  took  off  her  hat  and  jacket,  and  Fraser,  tak- 
ing them  from  her,  laid  them  reverently  in  his 
bunk.  Then  Poppy  moved  farther  along  the  seat, 
and,  taking  some  coffee  pronounced  herself  much 
refreshed. 

"  I've  been  very  rude  to  you,"  she  said,  softly; 
"  but  Mrs.  Wheeler  was  very  unkind,  and  said  that 
of  course  I  should  go  to  you.  That  was  why." 

"  Mrs.  Wheeler  is "  began  Fraser,  and  stopped 

suddenly. 

"  Of    course    it    was   quite    true,"    said    Poppy, 


248  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

healthfully  attacking  her  plate ;  "  I  did  have  to  come 
to  you." 

"  It  was  rather  an  odd  way  of  coming,"  said 
Fraser  ;  "  my  legs  ache  now." 

The  girl  laughed  softly,  and  continued  to  laugh. 
Then  her  eyes  moistened,  and  her  face  became  trou- 
bled. Fraser,  as  the  best  thing  to  do,  made  an  ex- 
cuse and  went  up  on  deck,  to  the  discomfort  of 
Bill  and  the  boy,  who  were  not  expecting  him. 

Poppy  was  calm  again  by  the  time  he  returned, 
and  thanked  him  again  softly  as  he  showed  her  her 
bunk  and  withdrew  for  the  night.  Bill  and  the 
boy  placed  their  berths  at  his  disposal,  but  he  de- 
clined them  in  favour  of  a  blanket  in  the  galley, 
where  he  sat  up,  and  slept  but  ill  all  night,  and 
was  a  source  of  great  embarrassment  to  the  cook 
next  morning  when  he  wanted  to  enter  to  prepare 
breakfast. 

Poppy  presided  over  that  meal,  and  it,  and  the 
subsequent  walk  to  discover  lodgings,  are  among 
Fraser's  dearest  memories.  He  trod  on  air  through 
the  squalid  roads  by  her  side,  and,  the  apartments 
having  been  obtained,  sat  on  the  arm  of  the  arm- 
chair— the  most  comfortable  part — and  listened  to 
her  plans. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  249 

"  And  you  won't  go  away  without  letting  me 
know  ?  "  he  said,  as  he  rose  to  depart. 

Miss  Tyrell  shook  her  head,  and  her  eyes  smiled 
at  him.  "  You  know  I  won't,"  she  said,  softly.  "  I 
don't  want  to." 

She  saw  him  to  the  door,  and  until  he  had  quitted 
the  gate,  kept  it  hospitably  open.  Fraser,  with  his 
head  in  a  whirl,  went  back  to  the  Swallow. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  prime  result  of  Mrs.  Banks'  nocturnal  ram- 
ble with  Mr.  William  Green,  was  a  feeling  of  great 
bitterness  against  her  old  friend,  Captain  John 
Barber.  Mr.  Green,  despite  her  protests,  was  still  a 
member  of  the  crew  of  the  Foam,  and  walked  about 
Seabridge  in  broad  daylight,  while  she  crept  forth 
only  after  sundown,  and  saw  a  hidden  meaning  in 
every  "Fine  evening,  Mrs.  Banks/'  which  met  her. 
She  pointed  out  to  Captain  Barber,  that  his  refusal 
to  dismiss  Mr.  Green  was  a  reflection  upon  her  ve- 
racity, and  there  was  a  strange  light  in  her  eyes  and 
a  strange  hardening  of  her  mouth,  as  the  old  man 
said  that  to  comply  with  her  request  would  be  to 
reflect  upon  the  polite  seaman's  veracity. 

Her  discomfiture  was  not  lessened  by  the  un- 
becoming behaviour  of  her  daughter,  who  in  some 
subtle  manner,  managed  to  convey  that  her  accept- 
ance of  her  mother's  version  of  the  incident 
depended  upon  the  way  she  treated  Mr.  Frank 
Gibson.  It  was  a  hard  matter  to  a  woman  of  spirit, 
and  a  harder  thing  still,  that  those  of  her  neighbours 
who  listened  to  her  account  of  the  affair  were  firmly 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  251 

persuaded  that  she  was  setting  her  cap  at  Captain 
Barber. 

To  clear  her  character  from  this  imputation,  and 
at  the  same  time  to  mark  her  sense  of  the  captain's 
treatment  of  her,  Mrs.  Banks  effected  a  remarkable 
change  of  front,  and  without  giving  him  the  slight- 
est warning,  set  herself  to  help  along  his  marriage 
to  Mrs.  Church. 

She  bantered  him  upon  the  subject  when  she 
met  him  out,  and,  disregarding  his  wrathful  embar- 
rassment, accused  him  in  a  loud  voice  of  wearing 
his  tie  in  a  love-knot.  She  also  called  him  a  turtle- 
dove. The  conversation  ended  here,  the  turtle- 
dove going  away  crimson  with  indignation  and 
cooing  wickedly. 

Humbled  by  the  terrors  of  his  position,  the 
proud  shipowner  turned  more  than  ever  to  Captain 
Nibletts  for  comfort  and  sympathy,  and  it  is  but 
due  to  that  little  man  to  say  that  anything  he  could 
have  done  for  his  benefactor  would  have  given  him 
the  greatest  delight.  He  spent  much  of  his  spare 
time  in  devising  means  for  his  rescue,  all  of  which 
the  old  man  listened  to  with  impatience  and  re- 
jected with  contumely. 

"  It's  no  good,  Nibletts,"  he  said,  as  they  sat  in 
the  subdued  light  of  the  cabin  one  evening. 


252  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"Nothing  can  be  done.  If  anything  could  be  done, 
I  should  have  thought  of  it." 

"Yes,  that's  what  struck  me,"  said  the  little 
skipper,  dutifully. 

"  I've  won  that  woman's  'art,"  said  Captain  Bar- 
ber,  miserably;  "in  'er  anxiety  to  keep  me,  the 
woman's  natur'  has  changed.  There's  nothing  she 
wouldn't  do  to  make  sure  of  me." 

"  It's  understandable,"  said  Nibletts. 

"  It's  understandable,"  agreed  Captain  Barber, 
"  but  it's  orkard.  Instead  o'  being  a  mild,  amiable 
sort  o'  woman,  all  smiles,  the  fear  o'  losing  me  has 
changed  'er  into  a  determined,  jealous  woman.  She 
told  me  herself  it  was  love  of  me  as 'ad  changed  her." 

"  You  ain't  written  to  her,  I  suppose  ? "  asked 
Nibletts,  twisting  his  features  into  an  expression  of 
great  cunning. 

Captain  Barber  shook  his  head.  "  If  you'd  think 
afore  speaking,  Nibletts,"  he  said,  severely,  "you'd 
know  as  people  don't  write  to  each  other  when 
they're  in  the  same  house." 

The  skipper  apologised.  "  What  I  mean  to  say 
is  this,"  he  said,  softly.  "  She  hasn't  got  your 
promise  in  writing,  and  she's  done  all  the  talking 
about  it.  I'm  the  only  one  you've  spoken  to  about 
it,  I  s'pose  ?  " 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  253 

Captain  Barber  nodded. 

"  Well,  forget  all  about  it,"  said  Nibletts,  in  an 
excited  whisper. 

Captain  Barber  looked  at  him  pityingly. 

"  What  good'll  that  do  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Forget  the  understanding,"  continued  Nibletts, 
in  a  stage  whisper,  *'  forget  everything ;  forget 
Captain  Flower's  death,  act  as  you  acted  just  afore 
he  went.  People'll  soon  see  as  you're  strange  in 
your  manner,  and  I'll  put  the  news  about  as  you've 
been  so  affected  by  that  affair  that  your  memory's 
gone." 

"  I  was  thinking  of  doing  that  the  other  day  my- 
self," said  Captain  Barber,  slowly  and  untruthfully. 

"  I  thought  you  was,  from  something  you  said," 
replied  Nibletts. 

"  I  think  I  spoke  of  it,  or  I  was  going  to,"  said 
Barber. 

"  You  did  say  something,"  said  Nibletts. 

"  I  wonder  what  would  be  the  best  way  to  begin," 
said  Barber,  regarding  him  attentively. 

Captain  Niblett's  nerve  failed  him  at  the  respon- 
sibility. 

"  It's  your  plan,  Captain  Barber,"  he  said,  im- 
pressively, "  and  nobody  can  tell  a  man  like  you 
how  it  should  be  done.  It  wants  acting,  and  you've 


254  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

got  to  have  a  good  memory  to  remember  that  you 
haven't  got  a  memory." 

"  Say  that  agin,"  said  Captain  Barber,  breathing 
thickly. 

Captain  Nibletts  repeated  it,  and  Captain  Barber, 
after  clearing  his  brain  with  a  glass  of  spirits,  bade 
him  a  solemn  good-night,  and  proceeded  slowly  to 
his  home.  The  door  was  opened  by  Mrs.  Church, 
and  a  hum  of  voices  from  the  front  room  indicated 
company.  Captain  Barber,  hanging  his  hat  on  a 
peg,  entered  the  room  to  discover  Mrs.  Banks  and 
daughter,  attended  by  Mr.  Gibson. 

"  Where's  Fred  ?  "  he  asked,  slowly,  as  he  took  a 
seat. 

"  Who  f  "  said  Miss  Banks,  with  a  little  scream. 

"  Lawk-a-mussy,  bless  the  man,"  said  her  mother. 
"  I  never  did." 

"  Not  come  in  yet?"  asked  Barber,  looking  round 
with  a  frightful  stare.  "The  Foams  up." 

The  company  exchanged  glances  of  consternation, 

"Why,  is  he  alive?"  enquired  Mrs.  Church, 
sharply. 

"Alive!"  repeated  Captain  Barber.  "Why 
shouldn't  he  be  ?  He  was  alive  yesterday,  wasn't 
he?" 

There  was  a  dead  silence,  and  then  Captain  Bar- 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  255 

her  from  beneath  his  shaggy  eyebrows  observed 
with  delight  that  Gibson,  tapping  his  forehead  sig- 
nificantly, gave  a  warning  glance  at  the  others, 
while  all  four  sitting  in  a  row  watched  anxiously  for 
the  first  signs  of  acute  mania. 

"  I  expect  he's  gone  round  after  you,  my  dear," 
said  the  wily  Barber  to  Miss  Banks. 

In  the  circumstances  this  was  certainly  cruel,  and 
Gibson  coughed  confusedly. 

"  I'll  go  and  see,"  said  Miss  Banks,  hurriedly  ; 
"  come  along,  mother." 

The  two  ladies,  followed  by  Mr.  Gibson,  shook 
hands  and  withdrew  hurriedly.  Captain  Barber, 
wondering  how  to  greet  Mrs.  Church  after  he  had 
let  them  out,  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  carpet  and  re- 
mained silent. 

"Aren't  you  well?"  enquired  the  lady,  tenderly. 

"Well,  ma'am?"  repeated  Uncle  Barber,  with 
severity. 

"  Ma'am  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Church,  in  tones  of  tender 
reproach ;  "  two  hours  ago  I  was  Laura.  Have  you 
been  to  the  'Thorn'?" 

"What  '  Thorn'?"  demanded  Captain  Barber, 
who  had  decided  to  forget  as  much  as  possible,  as 
the  only  safe  way. 

"  The  Thorn  Inn,"  said  Mrs,  Church,  impatiently. 


256  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  Where  is  it  ?  "  enquired  Captain  Barber,  ingen- 
uously. 

Mrs.  Church  looked  at  him  with  deep  considera- 
tion. "  Why,  at  the  end  of  the  cottages,  opposite 
the  'Swan.'" 

"  What  '  Swan  '  ?  "  enquired  Captain  Barber. 

"  The  Swan  Inn,"  said  Mrs.  Church,  restraining 
her  temper,  but  with  difficulty. 

"  Where  is  it  ?  "  said  Uncle  Barber,  with  breezy 
freshness. 

"  Opposite  the  '  Thorn/  at  the  end  of  the  row," 
said  Mrs.  Church,  slowly. 

"  Well,  what  about  it?  "  enquired  Captain  Barber. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Mrs.  Church,  sharply,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  set  supper. 

Captain  Barber,  hugging  himself  over  his  scheme, 
watched  her  eagerly,  evincing  a  little  bewilderment 
as  she  brought  on  a  small,  unappetizing  rind  of 
cheese,  bread,  two  glasses,  and  a  jug  of  water.  He 
checked  himself  just  in  time  from  asking  for  the 
cold  fowl  and  bacon  left  from  dinner,  and,  drawing 
his  chair  to  the  table,  eyed  the  contents  closely. 

"Only  bread  and  cheese?"  he  said,  somewhat 
peevishly. 

"That's  all,"  said  Mrs.  Church,  smiling;  "bread 
and  cheese  and  kisses." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  257 

Captain  Barber  tapped  his  forehead.  "  What  did 
we  have  for  dinner?  "  he  asked,  suddenly. 

"  Sausages,"  replied  Mrs.  Church,  blandly  ;  "  we 
ate  them  all." 

A  piece  of  Captain  Barber's  cheese  went  the 
wrong  way,  and  he  poured  himself  out  some  water 
and  drank  it  hurriedly.  "Where's  the  beer?"  he 
demanded. 

"You've  got  the  key  of  the  cask,"  said  the  house- 
keeper. 

Captain  Barber,  whose  temper  was  rising,  denied 
it. 

"  I  gave  it  to  you  this  morning,"  said  Mrs. 
Church;  "you  were  going  to  do  something  to  it, 
don't  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  don't  remember,"  said  Uncle  Barber,  surlily. 

"Whatever  has  happened  to  your  memory?" 
said  Mrs.  Church,  sweetly. 

"  My  memory,"  said  the  trickster,  slowly,  passing 
his  hand  over  his  brow  ;  "  why,  what's  the  matter 
with  it?" 

"  It  doesn't  seem  quite  so  good  as  it  was,"  said 
the  lady,  affectionately.  "  Never  mind,  my  memory 
will  have  to  do  for  both." 

There  was  enough  emphasis  on  this  last  sentence 
to  send  a  little  chill  through  the  captain's  frame. 


258  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

He  said  nothing,  but  keeping  his  eye  on  his  plate 
attacked  his  frugal  meal  in  silence,  and  soon  after- 
wards went  upstairs  to  bed  to  think  out  his  position. 

If  his  own  memory  was  defective,  Mrs.  Church's 
was  certainly  redundant.  When  he  came  hurrying 
in  to  dinner  next  day  she  remembered  that  he  had 
told  her  he  should  not  be  home  to  that  meal.  He 
was  ungallant  enough  to  contemplate  a  raid  upon 
hers ;  she,  with  a  rare  thoughtf ulness,  had  already 
eaten  it.  He  went  to  the  "  Thorn,"  and  had  some 
cold  salt  beef,  and  cursed  the  ingenious  Nibletts, 
now  on  his  way  to  London,  sky-high. 

Mrs.  Banks  came  in  the  next  evening  with  her 
daughter,  and  condoled  with  the  housekeeper  on 
the  affliction  which  had  already  been  noised  about 
Seabridge.  Mrs.  Church,  who  had  accepted  her  as 
an  ally,  but  with  mental  reservations,  softly  applied 
a  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

"How  are  you  feeling?"  demanded  Mrs.  Banks, 
in  the  voice  of  one  addressing  a  deaf  invalid. 

"I'm  all  right,"  said  Barber,  shortly. 

"  That's  his  pride,"  said  Mrs.  Church,  mournfully  ; 
"  he  won't  own  to  it.  He  can't  remember  anything. 
He  pretends  he  doesn't  know  me." 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  asked  the  sufferer,  promptly. 

"  He'll   get   the   better  of   it,"  said  Mrs.  Banks. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  259 

kindly,  as  her  quondam  foe  wiped  her  eyes  again. 
"  If  he  don't,  you'd  better  marry  before  October. 

To  say  that  Captain  Barber  pricked  up  his  ears 
at  this,  indicates  but  feebly  his  interest  in  the 
remark.  He  held  his  breath  and  looked  wildly 
round  the  room  as  the  two  ladies,  deftly  ignoring 
him,  made  their  arrangements  for  his  future. 

"  I  don't  like  to  seem  to  hurry  it,"  said  the  house- 
keeper. 

"  No,  of  course  you  don't.  If  he  said  October, 
naturally  October  it  ought  to  be,  in  the  usual  way," 
remarked  the  other. 

"  I  never  said  October/'  interrupted  the  trembling 
mariner. 

"  There's  his  memory  again,"  said  Mrs.  Banks,  in 
a  low  voice. 

41  Poor  dear,"  sighed  the  other. 

"  We'll  look  after  your  interests,"  said  Mrs.  Banks, 
with  a  benevolent  smile.  "  Don't  you  remember 
meeting  me  by  the  church  the  other  night  and  tell- 
ing me  that  you  were  going  to  marry  Mrs.  Church 
in  October?" 

"  No,"  bawled  the  affrighted  man. 

"Clean  gone,"  said  Mrs.  Church,  shaking  her 
head;  "it's  no  use." 

"  Not  a  bit,"  said  Mrs.  Banks. 


2<5o  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"October  seems  rather  early,"  said  Mrs.  Church, 
"  especially  as  he  is  in  mourning  for  his  nephew. 

"  There's  no  reason  for  waiting,"  said  Mrs.  Banks, 
decidedly.  "  I  daresay  it's  his  loneliness  that  makes 
him  want  to  hurry  it.  After  all,  he  ought  to  know 
what  he  wants." 

"  I  never  said  a  word  about  it,"  interposed  Cap- 
tain Barber,  in  a  loud  voice. 

"  All  right,"  said  Mrs.  Banks,  indulgently.  ."What 
are  you  going  to  wear,  my  dear?"  she  added,  turn- 
ing to  the  housekeeper. 

Mrs.  Church  seemed  undecided,  and  Captain 
Barber,  wiping  the  moisture  from  his  brow,  listened 
as  one  in  a  dream  to  a  long  discussion  on  the  possi- 
bilities of  her  wardrobe.  Thrice  he  interrupted,  and 
thrice  the  ladies,  suspending  their  conversation  for 
a  moment,  eyed  him  with  tender  pity  before  resum- 
ing it. 

"  Me  and  Frank  thought  of  October,"  said  Eliza- 
beth, speaking  for  the  first  time.  She  looked  at 
Captain  Barber,  and  then  at  her  mother.  It  was 
the  look  of  one  offering  to  sell  a  casting  vote. 

"  October's  early,"  said  the  old  lady,  bridling. 

Mrs.  Church  looked  up  at  her,  and  then  modestly 
looked  down  again.  "  Why  not  a  double  wedding  ?  " 
she  asked,  gently. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  261 

Captain  Barber's  voice  was  drowned  in  acclama- 
tions. Elizabeth  kissed  Mrs.  Church,  and  then 
began  to  discuss  her  own  wardrobe.  The  owner  of 
the  house,  the  owner  of  the  very  chairs  on  which 
they  were  sitting,  endeavoured  in  vain  to  stop  them 
on  a  point  of  order,  and  discovered  to  his  mortifica- 
tion that  a  man  without  a  memory  is  a  man  without 
influence.  In  twenty  minutes  it  was  all  settled,  and 
even  an  approximate  date  fixed.  There  was  a 
slight  movement  on  the  part  of  Elizabeth  to  obtain 
Captain  Barber's  opinion  upon  that,  but  being 
reminded  by  her  mother  that  he  would  forget  all 
about  it  in  half  an  hour's  time,  she  settled  it  with- 
out him. 

"  I'm  so  sorry  about  your  memory,  Captain 
Barber,"  said  Mrs.  Banks,  as  she  prepared  to  depart. 
"  I  can  understand  what  a  loss  it  is.  My  memory's 
a  very  good  one.  I  never  forget  anything." 

"You  forget  yourself,  ma'am,"  returned  her  victim, 
with  unconscious  ambiguity,  and,  closing  the  door 
behind  her,  returned  to  the  parlour  to  try  and  think 
of  some  means  of  escaping  from  the  position  to 
which  the  ingenuity  of  Captain  Nibletts,  aided  by 
that  of  Mrs.  Banks,  had  brought  him. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

OPPONENTS  of  medicine  have  hit  upon  a  means 
of  cleansing  the  system  by  abstaining  for  a  time 
from  food,  and  drinking  a  quantity  of  fair  water. 
It  is  stated  to  clear  the  eyes  and  the  skin,  and  to 
cause  a  feeling  of  lightness  and  buoyancy  undreamt 
of  by  those  who  have  never  tried  it.  All  people, 
perhaps,  are  not  affected  exactly  alike,  and  Captain 
Flower,  while  admitting  the  lightness,  would  have 
disdainfully  contested  any  charge  of  buoyancy. 
Against  this  objection  it  may  be  said  that  he  was 
not  a  model  patient,  and  had  on  several  occasions 
wilfully  taken  steps  to  remove  the  feeling  of  light- 
ness. 

It  was  over  a  fortnight  since  his  return  to  Lon- 
don. The  few  shillings  obtained  for  his  watch  had 
disappeared  days  before ;  rent  was  due  and  the 
cupboard  was  empty.  The  time  seemed  so  long  to 
him,  that  Poppy  and  Seabridge  and  the  Foam  might 
have  belonged  to  another  period  of  existence.  At 
the  risk  of  detection  he  had  hung  round  the  Wheel- 
ers night  after  night  for  a  glimpse  of  the  girl  for 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  263 

whom  he  was  enduring  all  these  hardships,  but 
without  success.  He  became  a  prey  to  nervousness 
and,  unable  to  endure  the  suspense  any  longer,  de- 
termined to  pay  a  stealthy  visit  to  Wapping  and 
try  and  see  Fraser. 

He  chose  the  night  on  which  in  the  ordinary 
state  of  affairs  the  schooner  should  be  lying  along- 
side the  wharf;  and  keeping  a  keen  lookout  for 
friends  and  foes  both,  made  his  way  to  the  Minories 
and  down  Tower  Hill.  He  had  pictured  it  as  teem- 
ing with  people  he  knew,  and  the  bare  street  and 
closed  warehouses,  with  a  chance  docker  or  two 
slouching  slowly  along,  struck  him  with  an  odd 
sense  of  disappointment.  The  place  seemed 
changed.  He  hurried  past  the  wharf;  that  too  was 
deserted,  and  after  a  loving  peep  at  the  spars  of 
his  schooner  he  drifted  slowly  across  the  road  to  the 
Albion,  and,  pushing  the  door  a  little  way  open, 
peeped  cautiously  in.  The  faces  were  all  unfamiliar, 
and  letting  the  door  swing  quietly  back  he  walked 
on  until  he  came  to  the  Town  of  Yarmouth. 

The  public  bar  was  full.  Tired  workers  were  try- 
ing to  forget  the  labours  of  the  day  in  big  draughts 
of  beer,  while  one  of  them  had  thrown  off  his 
fatigue  sufficiently  to  show  a  friend  a  fancy  step  of 
which  he  was  somewhat  vain.  It  was  a  difficult  and 


264  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

intricate  step  for  a  crowded  bar,  and  panic-stricken 
men  holding  their  beer  aloft  called  wildly  upon  him 
to  stop,  while  the  barman,  leaning  over  the  counter, 
strove  to  make  his  voice  heard  above  the  din.  The 
dancer's  feet  subsided  into  a  sulky  shuffle,  and  a 
tall  seaman,  removing  the  tankard  which  had 
obscured  his  face,  revealed  the  honest  features  of 
Joe.  The  sight  of  him  and  the  row  of  glasses  and 
hunches  of  bread  and  cheese  behind  the  bar  was 
irresistible.  The  skipper  caught  a  departing  cus- 
tomer by  the  coat  and  held  him. 

"  Do  me  a  favour,  old  man,"  he  said,  heartily. 

"  Wot  d'ye  want  ?  "  asked  the  other,  suspiciously. 

"  Tell  that  tall  chap  in  there  that  a  friend  of  his  is 
waiting  outside,"  said  Flower,  pointing  to  Joe. 

He  walked  off  a  little  way  as  the  man  re-entered 
the  bar.  A  second  or  two  later,  the  carman  came 
out  alone. 

"  'E  ses  come  inside  'e  ses  if  you  want  to  see  'im." 

"  I  can't,"  said  Flower. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  the  other,  as  a  horrible  suspi- 
cion dawned  upon  him.  "  Strewth,  you  ain't  a  tee- 
totaler, are  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  the  skipper,  "but  I  can't  go  in." 

"  Well  'e  won't  come  out,"  said  the  other ;  "  'e 
seems  to  be  a  short-tempered  sort  o'  man." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  265 

"  I  must  see  him,"  said  the  skipper,  pondering. 
Then  a  happy  thought  struck  him,  and  he  smiled 
at  his  cleverness.  "  Tell  him  a  little  flower  wants 
to  see  him,"  he  said,  briskly. 

"  A  little  wot  ?  "  demand-ed  the  carman,  blankly. 

"  A  little  flower,"  repeated  the  other. 

"Where  is  she?"  enquired  the  carman,  casting 
his  eyes  about  him. 

"You  just  say  that,"  said  the  skipper,  hurriedly. 
"  You  shall  have  a  pint  if  you  do.  He'll  under- 
stand." 

It  was  unfortunate  for  the  other  that  the  skipper 
had  set  too  high  an  estimation  on  Joe's  intelligence, 
for  the  information  being  imparted  to  him  in  the 
audible  tones  of  confidence,  he  first  gave  his  mug 
to  Mr.  William  Green  to  hold,  and  then  knocked 
the  ambassador  down.  The  loud  laugh  consequent 
on  the  delivery  of  the  message  ceased  abruptly,  and 
in  the  midst  of  a  terrific  hubbub  Joe  and  his  victim, 
together  with  two  or  three  innocent  persons  loudly 
complaining  that  they  hadn't  finished  their  beer, 
were  swept  into  the  street. 

"  He'll  be  all  right  in  a  minute,  mate,"  said  a  by- 
stander to  Joe,  anxiously  ;  "  don't  run  away." 

"  'Tain't  so  likely,"  said  Joe,  scornfully. 

"  Wot  did  you  'it  me  for  ?  "  demanded  the  vie- 


266  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

tim,  turning  a  deaf  ear  to  two  or  three  strangers 
who  were  cuddling  him  affectionately  and  pointing 
out,  in  alluring  whispers,  numberless  weak  points  in 
Joe's  fleshly  armour. 

"  I'll  'it  you  agin  if  you  come  into  a  pub  making 
a  fool  of  me  afore  people,"  replied  the  sensitive 
seaman,  blushing  hotly  with  the  recollection  of  the 
message. 

"  He  told  me  to,"  said  the  carman,  pointing  to 
Flower,  who  was  lurking  in  the  background. 

The  tall  seaman  turned  fiercely  and  strode  up  to 
him,  and  then,  to  the  scandal  of  the  bystanders  and 
the  dismay  of  Mr.  William  Green,  gave  a  loud  yell 
and  fled  full  speed  up  the  road.  Flower  followed 
in  hot  pursuit,  and  owing,  perhaps,  to  the  feeling  of 
lightness  before  mentioned,  ran  him  down  nearly  a 
mile  farther  on,  Mr.  Green  coming  in  a  good  second. 

"  Keep  orf,"  panted  the  seaman,  backing  into  a 
doorway.  "  Keep — it — orf !  " 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Joe,"  said  the  skipper. 

"  Keep  orf,"  repeated  the  trembling  seaman. 

His  fear  was  so  great  that  Mr.  Green,  who  had 
regarded  him  as  a  tower  of  strength  and  courage, 
and  had  wormed  himself  into  the  tall  seaman's  good 
graces  by  his  open  admiration  of  these  qualities, 
stood  appalled  at  his  idol's  sudden  lack  of  spirit. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  267 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Joe,"  said  the  skipper,  sharply  ; 
"  can't  you  see  it's  me  ?  " 

"  I  thought  you  was  drownded,"  said  the  trem- 
bling seaman,  still  regarding  him  suspiciously.  "  I 
thought  you  was  a  ghost." 

"  Feel  that,"  said  Flower,  and  gave  him  a  blow 
in  the  ribs  which  almost  made  him  regret  that  his 
first  impression  was  not  the  correct  one. 

"I'm  satisfied,  sir,"  he  said,  hastily. 

"  I  was  picked  up  and  carried  off  to  Riga :  but  for 
certain  reasons  I  needn't  go  into,  I  want  my  being 
alive  kept  a  dead  secret.  You  mustn't  breathe  a 
word  to  anybody,  d'ye  understand  ?  Not  a  word." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  said  Joe;  "you  hear  that,  Will- 
yum?" 

"  Who  the  devil's  this  ?  "  demanded  the  skipper, 
who  had  not  bargained  for  another  confidant. 

"  It's  the  new  'and,  sir,"  said  Joe.  "  I'll  be 
answerable  for  *im." 

Flower  eyed  the  pair  restlessly,  but  Mr.  Green 
assured  him  with  a  courtly  bow  that  Mr.  Smith's 
assurances  might  be  relied  upon.  "  lie  hoped  he 
was  a  gentleman,"  he  said,  feelingly. 

"  Some  of  us  thought — I  thought,"  said  Joe,  with 
a  glance  at  the  skipper,  "  that  the  mate  shoved  you 
overboard." 


268  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  You  always  were  a  fool,"  commented  the  skipper, 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Joe,  dutifully,  and  as  they  moved 
slowly  back  along  the  road  gave  him  the  latest 
information  about  Seabridge  and  the  Foam. 

"  The  Swallow  s  just  come  up  in  the  tier/'  he  con- 
eluded ;  "  and  if  you  want  to  see  Mr.  Fraser,  I'll  go 
and  see  if  he's  aboard." 

The  skipper  agreed,  and  after  exacting  renewed 
assurances  of  secrecy  from  both  men,  waited  impa- 
tiently in  the  private  bar  of  the  Waterman's  Arms 
while  they  put  off  from  the  stairs  and  boarded  the 
steamer. 

In  twenty  minutes,  during  which  time  the  penni- 
less skipper  affected  not  to  notice  the  restless  glances 
of  the  landlord,  they  returned  with  Fraser,  and 
a  hearty  meeting  took  place  between  the  two  men. 
The  famished  skipper  was  provided  with  meat  and 
drink,  while  the  two  A.  B.'s  whetted  their  thirst  in 
the  adjourning  bar. 

"  You've  had  a  rough  time,"  said  Fraser,  as  the 
skipper  concluded  a  dramatic  recital  of  his  advent- 
ures. 

Flower  smiled  broadly.  "  I've  come  out  of  it 
right  side  uppermost,"  he  said,  taking  a  hearty  pull 
at  his  tankard ;  "  the  worst  part  was  losing  my 
money.  Still,  it's  all  in  the  day's  work.  Joe  tells 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  269 

me  that  Elizabeth  is  walking  out  with  Gibson,  so 
you  see  it  has  all  happened  as  I  bargained  for." 

"  I've  heard  so,"  said  Fraser. 

"  It's  rather  soon  after  my  death,"  said  Flower, 
thoughtfully;  "she's  been  driven  into  it  by  her 
mother,  I  expect.  How  is  Poppy?" 

Fraser  told  him. 

"I  couldn't  wish  her  in  better  hands,  Jack,"  said 
the  other,  heartily,  when  he  had  finished ;  "  one  of 
these  days  when  she  knows  everything — at  least, 
as  much  as  I  shall  tell  her — she'll  be  as  grateful  to 
you  as  what  I  am." 

"  You've  come  back  just  in  time,"  said  Fraser, 
slowly ;  "  another  week,  and  you'd  have  lost  her." 

"  Lost  her  ?  "  repeated  Flower,  staring. 

"She's  going  to  New  Zealand,"  replied  the 
other ;  "  she's  got  some  relations  there.  She  met 
an  old  friend  of  her  father's  the  other  day,  Captain 
Martin,  master  of  the  Golden  Cloud,  and  he  has 
offered  her  a  passage.  They  sail  on  Saturday  from 
the  Albert  Dock." 

Flower  pushed  the  tankard  from  him,  and 
regarded  him  in  consternation. 

"  She  mustn't  go,"  he  said,  decisively. 

Fraser  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  tried  to 
persuade  her  not  to,  but  it  was  no  use.  She 


2/0  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

said  there  was  nothing  to  stay  in  England  for ; 
she's  quite  alone,  and  there  is  nobody  to  miss  her." 

"  Poor  girl,"  said  Flower,  softly,  and  sat  crum- 
bling his  bread  and  gazing  reflectively  at  a  soda-water 
advertisement  on  the  wall.  He  sat  so  long  in  this 
attitude  that  his  companion  also  turned  and  stud- 
ied it. 

"  She  mustn't  go,"  said  Flower,  at  length.  "  I'll 
go  down  and  see  her  to-morrow  night.  You  go 
first  and  break  the  news  to  her,  and  I'll  follow  on. 
Do  it  gently,  Jack.  It's  quite  safe  ;  there's  nobody 
she  can  talk  to  now ;  she's  left  the  Wheelers,  and 
I'm  simply  longing  to  see  her.  You  don't  know 
what  it  is  to  be  in  love,  Jack." 

"What  am  I  to  tell  her?"  enquired  the  other, 
hastily. 

"  Tell  her  I  was  saved,"  was  the  reply.  "  I'll  do 
the  rest.  By  Jove,  I've  got  it." 

He  banged  the  table  so  hard  that  his  plate 
jumped  and  the  glasses  in  the  bar  rattled  in  protest. 

"Anything  wrong  with  the  grub?  "  enquired  the 
landlord,  severely. 

Flower,  who  was  all  excitement,  shook  his  head. 

"  Because  if  there  is,"  continued  the  landlord, 
"  I'd  sooner  you  spoke  of  it  than  smash  the  table ; 
never  mind  about  hurting  my  feelings." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  271 

He  wiped  down  the  counter  to  show  that  Flower's 
heated  glances  had  no  effect  upon  him,  withdraw- 
ing reluctantly  to  serve  an  impatient  customer. 

"  I'll  go  down  to-morrow  morning  to  the  Golden 
Cloud  and  try  and  ship  before  the  mast,"  said 
Flower,  excitably ;  "  get  married  out  in  New  Zea- 
land, and  then  come  home  when  things  are  settled. 
What  do  you  think  of  that,  my  boy  ?  How  does 
that  strike  you  ?  " 

"  How  will  it  strike  Cap'n  Barber  ?  "  asked  Fraser, 
as  soon  as  he  had  recovered  sufficiently  to  speak. 

Flower's  eyes  twinkled.  "  It's  quite  easy  to  get 
wrecked  and  picked  up  once  or  twice,"  he  said, 
cheerfully.  "  I'll  have  my  story  pat  by  the  time  I 
get  home,  even  to  the  names  of  the  craft  I  was  cast 
away  in.  And  I  can  say  I  heard  of  Elizabeth's 
marriage  from  somebody  I  met  in  New  Zealand. 
I'll  manage  all  right." 

The  master  of  the  Swallow  gazed  at  him  in  help- 
less fascination. 

"They  want  hands  on  the  Golden  Cloud"  he  said, 
slowly  ;  "  but  what  about  your  discharges?" 

"  I  can  get  those,"  said  Flower,  complacently  ; 
"  a  man  with  money  and  brains  can  do  anything. 
Lend  me  a  pound  or  two  before  I  forget  it,  will 
you  ?  And  if  you'll  give  me  Poppy's  address,  I'll 


272  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

be  outside  the  house  at  seven  to-morrow.  Lord, 
fancy  being  on  the  same  ship  with  her  for  three 
months." 

He  threw  down  a  borrowed  sovereign  on  the 
counter,  and,  ordering  some  more  drinks,  placed 
them  on  the  table.  Fraser  had  raised  his  to  his 
lips  when  he  set  it  down  again,  and  with  a  warning 
finger  called  the  other's  attention  to  the  remarkable 
behaviour  of  the  door  communicating  with  the  next 
bar,  which,  in  open  defiance  of  the  fact  that  it  pos- 
sessed a  patent  catch  of  the  latest  pattern,  st©od 
open  at  least  three  or  four  inches. 

"Draught?"  questioned  Flower,  staring  at  the 
phenomenon. 

The  other  shook  his  head.  "  I'd  forgotten  those 
two  chaps,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice ;  "  they've  been 
listening." 

Flower  shifted  in  his  seat.  "  I'd  trust  Joe  any- 
where," he  said,  uneasily,  "  but  I  don't  know  about 
the  other  chap.  If  he  starts  talking  at  Seabridge 
I'm  done.  I  thought  Joe  was  alone  when  I  sent 
in  for  him." 

Fraser  tapped  his  chin  with  his  fingers.  "  I'll  try 
and  get  'em  to  ship  with  me.  I  want  a  couple  of 
hands,"  he  said,  slowly.  "  I'll  have  them  under  my 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  273 

eye  then,  and,  besides,  they're  better  at   Bittlesea 
than  Seabridge  in  any  case." 

He  rose  noisily,  and  followed  by  Flower  entered 
the  next  bar.  Twenty  minutes  afterwards  Flower 
bade  them  all  a  hearty  good-night,  and  Mr.  Green, 
walking  back  to  the  schooner  with  Joe,  dwelt  com- 
placently on  the  advantages  of  possessing  a  style 
and  address  which  had  enabled  them  to  exchange 
the  rudeness  of  Ben  for  the  appreciative  amiability 
of  Captain  Fraser. 

Flower  was  punctual  to  the  minute  next  evening, 
and  shaking  hands  hastily  with  Fraser,  who  had 
gone  down  to  the  door  to  wait  for  him,  went  in 
alone  to  see  Miss  Tyrell.  Fraser,  smoking  his  pipe 
on  the  doorstep,  gave  him  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
and  then  went  upstairs,  Miss  Tyrell  making  a  futile 
attempt  to  escape  from  the  captain's  encircling  arm 
as  he  entered  the  room.  Flower  had  just  com- 
menced the  recital  of  his  adventures.  He  broke  off 
as  the  other  entered,  but  being  urged  by  Miss  Tyrell 
to  continue,  glanced  somewhat  sheepishly  at  his 
friend  before  complying. 

"When  I  rose  to  the  surface,"  he  said,  slowly 
"  and  saw  the  ship  drawing  away  in  the  darkness 
and  heard  the  cries  on  board,  I  swam  as  strongly  as 
I  could  towards  it.     I  was  weighed  down  by  my 


274  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

clothes,  and  I  had  also  struck  my  head  going  over- 
board,  and  I  felt  that  every  moment  was  my  last, 
when  I  suddenly  bumped  up  against  the  life-belt.  I 
had  just  strength  to  put  that  on  and  give  one  faint 
hail,  and  then  I  think  for  a  time  I  lost  my  senses." 

Miss  Tyrell  gave  an  exclamation  of  pity  ;  Mr. 
Fraser  made  a  noise  which  might  have  been  in- 
tended  for  the  same  thing. 

"  The  rest  of  it  was  like  a  dream,"  continued 
Flower,  pressing  the  girl's  hand ;  "  sometimes  my 
eyes  were  open  and  sometimes  not.  I  heard  the 
men  pulling  about  and  hailing  me  without  being 
able  to  reply.  By-and-by  that  ceased,  the  sky  got 
grey  and  the  water  brown ;  all  feeling  had  gone  out 
of  me.  The  sun  rose  and  burnt  in  the  salt  on  my 
face ;  then  as  I  rose  and  fell  like  a  cork  on  the 
waters,  your  face  seemed  to  come  before  me,  and  1 
determined  to  live." 

"  Beautiful,"  said  Fraser,  involuntarily. 

"  I  determined  to  live,"  repeated  Flower,  glancing 
at  him  defiantly.  "  I  brushed  the  wet  hair  from 
my  eyes,  and  strove  to  move  my  chilled  limbs. 
Then  I  shouted,  and  anything  more  dreary  than 
that  shout  across  the  waste  of  water  I  cannot  im- 
agine, but  it  did  me  good  to  hear  my  own  voice, 
and  I  shouted  again." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  275 

He  paused  for  breath,  and  Fraser,  taking  advan- 
tage of  the  pause,  got  up  hurriedly  and  left  the 
room,  muttering  something  about  matches. 

"  He  doesn't  like  to  hear  of  your  sufferings,"  said 
Poppy. 

"  I  suppose  not,"  said  Flower,  whose  eloquence 
had  received  a  chill,  "but  there  is  little  more  to 
tell.  I  was  picked  up  by  a  Russian  brig  bound  for 
Riga,  and  lay  there  some  time  in  a  state  of  fever. 
When  I  got  better  I  worked  my  passage  home  in  a 
timber  boat  and  landed  yesterday." 

"What  a  terrible  experience,"  said  Poppy,  as 
Fraser  entered  the  room  again. 

"Shocking,"  said  the  latter. 

"And  now  you've  got  your  own  ship  again," 
said  the  girl,  "  weren't  your  crew  delighted  to  see 
you  ?  " 

"  I've  not  seen  them  yet,"  said  Flower,  hesitat- 
ingly. "  I  shipped  on  another  craft  this  morning 
before  the  mast." 

"Before  the  mast,"  repeated  the  girl,  in  amaze- 
ment. 

"  Full-rigged  ship  Golden  Cloud,  bound  for  New 
Zealand,"  said  Flower,  slowly,  watching  the  effect 
of  his  words — "  we're  to  be  shipmates." 


276  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

Poppy  Tyrell  started  up  with  a  faint  cry,  but 
Flower  drew  her  gently  down  again. 

"We'll  be  married  in  New  Zealand,"  he  said, 
softly,  "  and  then  we'll  come  back  and  I'll  have  my 
own  again.  Jack  told  me  you  were  going  out  on 
her.  Another  man  has  got  my  craft ;  he  lost  the 
one  he  had  before,  and  I  want  to  give  him  a  chance 
for  a  few  months,  poor  chap,  to  redeem  his  char- 
acter. Besides,  it'll  be  a  change.  We  shall  see  the 
world.  It'll  just  be  a  splendid  honeymoon." 

"  You  didn't  tell  Captain  Martin  ?  "  enquired  the 
girl,  as  she  drew  back  in  her  chair  and  eyed  him 
perplexedly. 

"  Not  likely,"  said  Flower,  with'  a  laugh.  "  I've 
shipped  in  the  name  of  Robert  Orth.  I  bought 
the  man's  discharges  this  morning.  He's  lying  in 
bed,  poor  chap,  waiting  for  his  last  now,  and  hop- 
ing it'll  be  marked  '  v.  g.'  " 

Poppy  was  silent.  For  a  moment  her  eyes,  dark 
and  inscrutable,  met  Fraser's ;  then  she  looked 
away,  and  in  a  low  voice  addressed  Flower. 

"  I  suppose  you  know  best  what  is  to  be  done," 
she  said,  quietly. 

"  You  leave  it  to  me,"  said  Flower,  in  satisfied 
tones.  "  I'm  at  the  wheel." 

There  was  a  long  silence.     Poppy  got    up  and 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  277 

crossed  to  the  window,  and,  resting  her  cheek  on 
her  hand,  sat  watching  the  restless  life  of  the  street. 
The  room  darkened  slowly  with  the  approach  of 
evening.  Flower  rose  and  took  the  seat  opposite, 
and  Fraser,  who  had  been  feeling  in  the  way  for 
some  time,  said  that  he  must  go. 

"  You  sail  to-morrow  evening,  Jack  ? "  said 
Flower,  with  a  careless  half-turn  towards  him. 

"  About  six,"  was  the  reply. 

"We  sail  Saturday  evening  at  seven,"  said 
Flower,  and  took  the  girl's  hand  in  his  own.  "  It 
will  be  odd  to  see  you  on  board,  Poppy,  and  not  to 
be  able  to  speak  to  you ;  but  we  shall  be  able  to 
look  at  each  other,  sha'n't  we  ?  " 

"  Captain  Martin  is  a  strict  disciplinarian,"  said 
Poppy. 

"  Well  he  can't  prevent  us  looking  at  each  other," 
said  Flower,  "and  he  can't  prevent  us  marrying 
when  we  get  to  the  other  end.  Good-night,  Jack. 
Next  time  you  see  us  we'll  be  an  old  married 
couple." 

"  A  quick  passage  and  a  safe  return,"  said  Fraser. 
"Good-night." 

Poppy  Tyrell  just  gave  him  her  small  hand,  and 
that  was  all.  Flower,  giving  him  a  hearty  grip, 
accompanied  him  as  far  as  the  door  of  the  room. 


278  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

He  looked  back  as  he  gained  the  pavement,  and  the 
last  he  saw  of  them  they  were  sitting  at  the  open 
window.  Flower  leaned  out  and  waved  his  hand 
in  farewell,  but  Poppy  maeie  no  sign. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

IN  the  rising  seaport  of  Bittlesea  Captain  Eraser, 
walking  slowly  along  the  quay  on  the  fateful  Sat- 
urday, heard  the  hour  of  seven  strike  from  the 
tower  of  the  old  church  wedged  in  between  the  nar- 
row streets  at  the  back  of  the  town.  The  little 
harbour  with  its  motley  collection  of  craft  vanished  ; 
he  heard  the  sharp,  hoarse  cries  of  command  on  the 
Golden  Cloud,  and  saw  the  bridge  slowly  opening  to 
give  egress  to  the  tug  which  had  her  in  tow.  He 
saw  her  shapely  hull  and  tapering  spars  glide  slowly 
down  the  river,  while  Poppy  Tyrell,  leaning  against 
the  side,  took  her  last  look  at  London.  He  came 
back  with  a  sigh  to  reality :  the  Swallow  had  dwin- 
dled to  microscopical  proportions,  and  looked  dirty  ; 
Bittlesea  itself  had  the  appearance  of  a  village  with 
foolish  aspirations  to  be  considered  a  port,  and  he 
noticed,  with  a  strong  sense  of  pity  tempered  with 
disdain,  the  attentions  of  two  young  townsmen  to  a 
couple  of  gawky  girls  in  white  frocks. 

With  a  feeling  that  the  confinement  of  the  house 
would  be  insupportable,  he  roamed  idly  about  until 


28o  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

the  day  gave  place  to  twilight,  and  the  red  eye  of 
the  lightship  on  the  horizon  peeped  suddenly  across 
the  water.  Bittlesea  was  dull  to  aching  point ;  a 
shirt-sleeved  householder  or  two  sat  in  his  fragrant 
front-garden  smoking,  and  a  murmur  of  voices  and 
shag  tobacco  floated  out  from  tavern  doorways. 
He  paced  up  and  down  the  quay,  until  the  necessity 
of  putting  a  stop  to  the  vagaries  of  his  crew  fur- 
nished him  with  a  little  wholesome  diversion. 

In  their  quest  for  good  beer  Mr.  Green  and  Joe 
had  left  themselves  in  the  hands  of  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  crew,  and  had  gone  off  with  them  in  a 
body  to  the  Cap  and  Bells,  where,  in  a  most 
pointed  fashion,  Mr.  Green,  who  had  been  regarding 
the  fireman's  complexion  for  some  time  with  much 
displeasure,  told  the  boy  to  go  back  to  the  ship  and 
get  his  face  washed. 

"He's  all  right,  ain't  you,  Tommy?"  said  the 
cook,  coming  to  the  rescue. 

"  Boys  ought  to  keep  their  faces  clean,"  said  Mr. 
Green,  impressively ;  "  there's  nothing  more  un- 
pleasant than  a  face  what  wants  washing.  You 
don't  want  to  grow  up  like  that,  do  you  ?  Look  at 
it,  Joe." 

"  It  might  be  cleaner,"  said  Joe,  thus  appealed 
to,  slowly  ;  "  likewise  it  might  be  dirtier." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  281 

"  It  might  be  much  dirtier,"  said  Mr.  Green,  em- 
phatically ;  "  anybody  with  eyes  in  their  *ed  can  see 
that" 

There  was  an  awkward  pause,  during  which  the 
fireman,  with  one  eye  peeping  furtively  from  be- 
yond the  rim  of  a  quart  pot,  saw  both  Joe  and  the 
cook  kick  Mr.  Green's  foot  to  call  his  attention  to 
the  fact  that  his  words  might  be  misconstrued  by 
another  member  of  the  party. 

"  I  'ate  toffs,"  he  said,  deliberately,  as  he  placed 
his  mug  on  the  counter. 

"  They're  all  right  when  you  know  'em,  Charlie," 
said  Joe,  who  was  averse  to  having  the  evening 
spoiled  at  that  early  hour. 

"  A  real  toff's  bad  enough,"  continued  the  fire- 
man, "  but  a  himitation  one — pah  !  "  He  buried 
his  face  in  the  pewter  again,  and  laughed  dis- 
cordantly. 

"  You  go  aboard  and  wash  you  face,  Tommy," 
repeated  Mr.  Green.  "  I  should  think  you'd  find 
plenty  o'  soap  in  Charlie's  bunk." 

"  Do  you  know  what  you  want  ?  "  demanded  the 
fireman,  regarding  him  fixedly. 

"  I  know  what  you  want,"  said  Mr.  Green,  with  a 
supercilious  smile. 

"  Oh  !     Wot  ?  "  said  the  other. 


282  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

The  polite  seaman  rose  to  his  feet  and  watched 
him  carefully.  "A  banjo,"  he  replied. 

It  was  not  the  reply  according  to  time-honoured 
formula,  and  Charlie,  who  was  expecting  something 
quite  different,  was  at  no  pains  to  hide  his  perplex- 
ity.  "A  banjo  ?  "  he  repeated,  slowly,  "  a  banjo — 
a  ban ?" 

Light  came  to  him  suddenly,  and  he  flew  at  Mr. 
Green  with  his  fists  whirling.  In  a  second  the  bar 
was  in  an  uproar,  and  the  well-meant  and  self-pre- 
servative efforts  of  Joe  and  the  cook  to  get  the 
combatants  into  the  street  were  frustrated  by  people 
outside  blocking  up  the  doors.  They  came  out  at 
last,  and  Fraser,  who  was  passing,  ran  over  just  in 
time  to  save  Mr.  Green,  who  was  doing  his  best, 
from  the  consequences  of  a  somewhat  exaggerated 
fastidiousness.  The  incident,  however,  afforded  a 
welcome  distraction,  and  having  seen  Mr.  Green  off 
in  the  direction  of  the  steamer,  while  the  fireman 
returned  to  the  public-house,  he  bent  his  steps 
homewards  and  played  a  filial  game  at  cards  with 
his  father  before  retiring. 

They  sailed  for  London  the  following  afternoon, 
Mr.  Green  taking  a  jaundiced  view  of  the  world 
from  a  couple  of  black  eyes,  while  the  fireman 
openly  avowed  that  only  the  economical  limitations 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  283 

of  Nature  prevented  him  from  giving  him  more. 
Fraser,  a  prey  to  gentle  melancholy,  called  them  to 
order  once  or  twice,  and  then  left  them  to  the  mate, 
a  man  whose  talent  for  ready  invective  was  at  once 
the  admiration  and  envy  of  his  peers. 

The  first  night  in  London  he  spent  on  board,  and 
with  pencil  and  paper  sat  down  to  work  out  the 
position  of  the  Golden  Cloud.  He  pictured  her 
with  snowy  pinions  outspread,  passing  down  Chan- 
nel. He  pictured  Poppy  sitting  on  the  poop  in  a 
deck-chair  and  Flower  coming  as  near  as  his  work 
would  allow,  exchanging  glances  with  her.  Then 
he  went  up  on  deck,  and,  lighting  his  pipe,  thought 
of  that  never-to-be-forgotten  night  when  Poppy  had 
first  boarded  the  Foam. 

The  next  night  his  mood  changed,  and  unable  to 
endure  the  confinement  of  the  ship,  he  went  for  a 
lonely  tramp  round  the  streets.  He  hung  round 
the  Wheelers,  and,  after  gazing  at  their  young  bar- 
barians at  play,  walked  round  and  looked  at  Flower's 
late  lodgings.  It  was  a  dingy  house,  with  broken 
railings  and  an  assortment  of  papers  and  bottles  in 
the  front  garden,  and  by  no  means  calculated  to 
relieve  depression.  From  there  he  instinctively 
wandered  round  to  the  lodgings  recently  inhabited 
by  Miss  TyrelL 


284  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

He  passed  the  house  twice,  and  noted  with  gloom 
the  already  neglected  appearance  of  her  front  win- 
dow. The  Venetian  blind,  half  drawn  up,  was  five 
or  six  inches  higher  one  side  than  the  other,  and  a 
vase  of  faded  flowers  added  to  the  forlornness  of 
the  picture.  In  his  present  state  of  mind  the  faded 
blooms  seemed  particularly  appropriate,  and  sud- 
denly determining  to  possess  them,  he  walked  up 
the  steps  and  knocked  at  the  door,  trembling  like  a 
young  housebreaker  over  his  first  job. 

"  I  think  I  left  my  pipe  here  the  other  night,"  he 
stammered  to  the  small  girl  who  opened  it. 

"  I'll  swear  you  didn't,"  said  the  small  damsel, 
readily. 

"Can  I  go  up  and  see?"  enquired  Fraser,  hand- 
ing her  some  coppers. 

The  small  girl  relented,  and  even  offered  to  assist 
him  in  his  search,  but  he  waved  her  away,  and  going 
upstairs  sat  down  and  looked  drearily  round  the 
shabby  little  room.  An  execrable  ornament  of 
green  and  pink  paper  in  the  fireplace  had  fallen 
down,  together  with  a  little  soot ;  there  was  dust 
on  the  table,  and  other  signs  of  neglect.  He  crossed 
over  to  the  window  and  secured  two  or  three  of  the 
blooms,  and  was  drying  the  stalks  on  his  handker- 
chief when  his  eye  suddenly  lighted  on  a  little  white 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  285 

ball  on  the  mantel-piece,  and,  hardly  able  to  believe 
in  his  good  fortune,  he  secured  a  much-darned  pair 
of  cotton  gloves,  which  had  apparently  been  for- 
gotten in  the  hurry  of  departure.  He  unrolled 
them,  and  pulling  out  the  little  shrivelled  fingers, 
regarded  them  with  mournful  tenderness.  Then 
he  smoothed  them  out,  and  folding  them  with  rev- 
erent fingers,  placed  them  carefully  in  his  breast- 
pocket. He  then  became  conscious  that  somebody 
was  regarding  his  antics  with  amazement  from  the 
doorway. 

"  Mr.  Fraser !  "  said  a  surprised  voice,  which 
tried  to  be  severe. 

Mr.  Fraser  bounded  from  his  chair,  and  stood  re- 
garding the  intruder  with  a  countenance  in  which 
every  feature  was  outvying  the  other  in  amazement. 

"  I  thought — you — were  on  the  Golden  Cloud" 
he  stammered. 

Miss  Tyrell  shook  her  head  and  looked  down. 
"  I  missed  the  ship/*  she  said,  pensively. 

"  Missed  the  ship  ?  "  shouted  the  other  ;  "  missed 
the  ship  ?  Did  Flower  miss  it  too  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  not,"  said  Miss  Tyrell,  even  more 
pensively  than  before. 

"  Good  heavens,  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing," 
said  Fraser  ;  "  how  ever  did  you  manage  to  do  it  ?  " 


286  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  I  went  to  lie  down  a  little  while  on  Saturday 
afternoon,"  said  Poppy,  reflectively ;  "  I'd  got  my 
box  packed  and  everything  ready  ;  when  I  got  up 
it  was  past  seven  o'clock,  and  then  I  knew  it  was 
no  use.  Ships  won't  wait,  you  know." 

Fraser  gazed  at  her  in  amaze.  In  his  mind's  eye 
he  still  saw  the  deck  of  the  Golden  Cloud ;  but 
Poppy's  deck-chair  was  empty,  and  Flower,  in  place 
of  exchanging  glances  with  her,  was  walking  about 
in  a  state  equally  compounded  of  wrath  and  be- 
wilderment. 

"  And  you  had  given  up  your  berth  in  the  City  ?  " 
said  Fraser,  at  length,  in  concern. 

The  consciousness  of  a  little  colour  in  her  cheek 
which  she  could  not  repress  affected  Miss  Tyrell's 
temper.  "  No,"  she  said,  sharply. 

"  Didn't  you  intend  to  go,  then  ?  "  asked  the  be- 
wildered Fraser. 

"  I — oh,  will  you  give  me  my  gloves,  please,  be- 
fore  I  forget  them  ?  "  said  Miss  Tyrell,  coldly. 

It  was  Fraser's  turn  to  colour,  and  he  burnt  a  rich 
crimson  as  he  fished  them  out. 

"  I  was  going  to  take  care  of  them  for  you,"  he 
said,  awkwardly.  "  I  came  to  look  after  a  pipe  I 
thought  I'd  left  here." 

"  I  saw  you  taking  care  of  them,"  was  the  reply. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  287 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  Miss  Tyrell 
took  a  seat  and,  folding  her  hands  in  her  lap,  gazed 
at  him  with  the  calm  gaze  which  comes  of  perfect 
misdoing  and  the  feminine  determination  not  to 
own  up  to  it.  The  room  was  no  longer  shabby,  and 
Fraser  was  conscious  of  a  strange  exaltation. 

"  I  understood  that  you  had  given  notice  in  the 
City,"  he  said,  slowly;  "but  I'm  very  glad  that 
you  didn't." 

Miss  Tyrell  shook  her  head,  and  stooping  down 
adjusted  the  fire-stove  ornament. 

"  Didn't  you  intend  to  go  ?  "  repeated  the  tactful 
seaman. 

"I'd  left  it  open,"  said  Miss  Tyrell,  thoughtfully  ; 
"  I  hadn't  definitely  accepted  Captain  Martin's 
invitation.  You  jump  at  conclusions  so,  but  of 
course  when  I  found  that  Captain  Flower  had 
shipped  before  the  mast  for  my  sake,  why,  I  had  to 

go." 

"  So  you  had,"  said  Fraser,  staring. 

"There  was  no  help  for  it,"  continued  Miss 
Tyrell. 

"  Didn't  seem  like  it,"  said  the  more  accurate 
Fraser. 

His  head  was  in  a  whirl,  and  he  tried  vainly  to 
think  of  the  exact  terms  in  which  she  had  announced 


288  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

her  intention  to  emigrate,  and  combated  the  ot> 
jections  which  he  thought  himself  justified  in  ad- 
vancing. He  began  to  remember  in  a  misty,  un- 
certain fashion  that  they  were  somewhat  vague  and 
disjointed,  and  for  one  brief  moment  he  wondered 
whether  she  had  ever  had  any  idea  of  going  at  all. 
One  glance  at  the  small  figure  of  probity  opposite 
was  enough,  and  he  repelled  the  idea  as  unworthy. 

"  I  believe  that  you  are  sorry  I  didn't  go,"  said 
Poppy,  suddenly. 

"  I'm  sorry  for  Flower,"  said  the  other. 

"  He  will  be  back  in  six  or  seven  months,"  said 
Poppy,  gently  ;  "  that  will  soon  pass  away.  I  shall 
not  be  very  old  to  marry  even  then.  Perhaps  it  is 
all  for  the  best— I  don't  like " 

"  Don't  like  ?  "  prompted  Fraser. 

"  Don't  like  to  be  hurried,"  continued  Miss  Tyrell, 
looking  down. 

There  was  another  pause.  The  girl  got  up  and, 
walking  to  the  window,  gazed  out  upon  the  street. 

"  There  is  a  nice  air  in  the  streets  now,"  she  said 
at  length,  without  turning  round. 

Fraser  started.  Politeness  and  inclination  fought 
with  conscience.  The  allies  won,  but  inclination 
got  none  of  the  credit. 

"Would  you  care  to  go  for  a  walk?  "he  asked. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  289 

Miss  Tyrell  turned  and  regarded  him  with  an 
unmistakable  air  of  surprise. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  she  said,  in  a  manner  which 
indicated  reproof. 

Fraser  shifted  restlessly.  "  I  thought  that  was 
what  you  meant,"  he  said,  indignantly. 

"  You  jump  at  conclusions,  as  I  said  before,"  re- 
marked Miss  Tyrell.  "  It  wouldn't  be  right." 

"  I  don't  see  any  harm  in  it,"  said  Fraser,  stoutly  ; 
"  we've  been  before,  and  Flower  knows  of  it." 

The  girl  shook  her  head.     "  No,"  she  said,  firmly. 

To  her  surprise,  that  ended  the  matter.  The 
rattle  of  traffic  and  the  hum  of  voices  came  in  at  the 
open  window  ;  the  room  seemed  unwontedly  quiet 
by  contrast.  Miss  Tyrell  sat  reaping  the  empty  re- 
ward of  virtue,  and  bestowing  occasional  glances  on 
the  fine  specimen  of  marine  obtuseness  in  the  arm- 
chair. 

"  I  hope  that  I  am  not  keeping  you  from  a  walk," 
she  observed,  at  length. 

"  No,"  said  Fraser. 

He  rose  in  confusion,  wondering  whether  this  was  a 
hint  for  him  to  go,  and  after  a  supreme  mental  effort 
decided  that  it  was,  and  murmured  something  about 
getting  back  to  the  ship.  Poppy  shook  hands  with 
him  patiently.  It  is  always  a  sad  thing  to  see  a 


290  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

fine  young  man  lacking  in  intelligence.  Some  of 
her  pity  perhaps  showed  in  her  eyes. 

"  Are  you  going  ?  "  she  asked,  with  a  shade  of 
surprise  in  her  voice. 

Fraser  gazed  at  her  in  perplexity.  "  I  suppose 
so,"  he  murmured. 

"  Which  means  that  you  want  a  walk,  but  don't 
like  leaving  me  here  alone,  I  suppose,"  said  Miss 
Tyrell,  resignedly.  "  Very  well,  I  will  come." 

She  left  him  for  a  moment  in  search  of  her  hat, 
and  then,  putting  aside  the  gloves  she  was  about  to 
don  in  favour  of  those  he  had  endeavoured  to 
secrete,  led  the  way  downstairs.  Her  composure 
was  sufficient  for  two,  which  was  just  the  quantity 
required  at  that  moment. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  summer  passed  quickly.  All  too  quickly  for 
Captain  Barber,  who  said  that  it  was  the  shortest  he 
ever  remembered.  But,  then,  his  memory,  although 
greatly  improved,  was  still  none  of  the  best,  many 
things  which  Mrs.  Church  fondly  and  frequently 
referred  to  having  escaped  it  altogether. 

He  even  forgot  that  he  was  to  be  married  in 
October,  and  in  these  circumstances  Mrs.  Gibson, 
Miss  Banks,  and  Mrs.  Church  put  their  banns  up. 
This  acted  as  a  specific,  and  Captain  Barber,  putting 
the  best  face  he  could  on  the  matter,  went  and  in- 
terviewed the  verger  on  his  own  behalf. 

The  wedding-day  found  him  resigned,  but  dazed. 
The  morning  air  was  crisp  and  chill,  with  a  faint 
odour  of  dead  leaves  and  the  aromatic  smell  of 
chrysanthemums  which  decked  the  front  garden. 
The  house  was  as  clean  as  a  new  pin,  or  the  deck  of 
the  Foam,  which,  having  been  thoroughly  scubbed 
down  in  honour  of  the  occasion,  was  now  slowly 
drying  in  the  sun.  Down  below,  the  crew,  having 


292  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

finished  their  labours  for  the  day,  were  anxiously  at- 
tiring themselves  in  their  Sunday  best. 

The  grizzled  head  of  Ben  popped  out  at  the  com- 
panion and  sniffed  heartily  at  the  smell  of  wet 
deck.  His  coat  was  of  black,  and  his  new  boots 
creaked  deliciously  as  he  slowly  paced  the  deck  and 
affected  ignorance  of  the  little  cluster  of  heads  at 
the  forecastle  hatch.  He  went  below  again,  and  a 
murmur,  gentle  but  threatening,  rose  against  Tim. 

"  You  wait,"  said  the  youth,  sharply. 

"  If  you've  made  me  waste  eighteenpence,  Tim- 
my,"  said  a  stout  A.  B.  named  Jones,  "  the  Lord  ha* 
mercy  on  you,  'cos  I  won't." 

The  cook,  who  was  clinging  to  the  ladder  with 
his  head  level  with  the  deck,  gave  an  excited  gasp. 
"  Tim's  all  right,"  he  said  ;  "  look  there." 

The  last  words  were  jerked  out  of  him  by  reason 
of  the  weight  of  his  friends,  who  were  now  leaning 
on  him,  breathing  heavily  under  the  stress  of  strong 
excitement.  Ben  was  on  deck  again,  and  in  an 
obviously  unconcerned  manner  was  displaying  a  silk 
hat  of  great  height  to  all  who  cared  to  look.  The 
mate's  appearance  alone,  without  the  flags  which 
dressed  the  schooner,  would  have  indicated  a 
festival. 

Three  or  four  labourers   sunning   themselves  on 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  293 

the  quay  were  much  impressed  and  regarded  him 
stolidy ;  a  fisherman,  presuming  upon  the  fact  that 
they  both  earned  their  living  on  the  water,  ven- 
tured to  address  him. 

"  Now,  then,"  said  Jones,  as  he  took  something 
reverently  from  an  empty  bunk,  "  who's  going  up 
fust  ?  " 

"  I  ain't,"  said  Tim. 

"  Wot  about  you,  cookie  ?  "  said  Jones. 

"  Well,  wot  about  me  ?  "  demanded  the  other. 

"  I  thought  p'r'aps  you'd  like  to  lead  the  way," 
said  Mr.  Jones,  mildly. 

"  You  thought  wrong,  then,"  said  the  cook, 
shortly. 

"  It  was  jist  a  compliment,"  urged  Mr.  Jones. 

"  I  don't  like  flattery,"  said  the  cook ;  "  never 
did." 

Mr.  Jones  sighed  and  shook  his  head  irresolutely. 
The  other  A.B.  patted  him  on  the  back. 

"You  look  a  fair  bloomin' treat,"  he  said,  heart- 
ily. "  You  go  up  fust ;  you  look  as  though  you've 
slep'  in  one  a'most." 

"  None  o'  your  larks,  you  know,"  remarked  Mr. 
Jones,  with  suspicious  sourness  ;  "  no  backing  out 
of  it  and  leavin'  me  there  by  myself." 

There   was   a   chorus   of    virtuous   but    profane 


294  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

indignation.  It  was  so  indignant  that  Mr.  Jones 
apologised,  and  stood  for  some  time  regarding  the 
article  in  his  hand  with  the  face  of  a  small  child 
eyeing  a  large  powder.  Then  he  clapped  it  on  his 
head  and  went  on  deck. 

The  mate  was  just  talking  to  the  fisherman  about 
an  uncle  of  his  (born  since  his  promotion)  who  had 
commanded  a  brig,  when  his  voice  failed  him,  and 
he  gazed  open-mouthed  at  a  stout  seaman  who  had 
just  come  up  on  deck.  On  the  stout  seaman's  face 
was  the  look  of  one  who  sees  a  vision  many  miles 
off;  on  the  stout  seaman's  head  was  a  high  hat  of 
antique  pattern  which  had  suffered  in  the  brushing. 
To  avoid  the  mate's  eye  he  folded  his  arms  and, 
leaning  over  the  side,  gazed  across  the  river.  Words 
trembled  on  the  mate's  lips,  but  they  died  away  in 
a  squeak  as  a  little  top-hatted  procession  of  three 
issued  coyly  from  the  forecastle  and,  ranging  itself 
beside  Mr.  Jones,  helped  him  to  look  across  the 
river. 

"  I  never  did,"  said  the  fisherman.  "  What  are 
we  adeeming  to  ?  " 

The  mate  did  not  stay  to  inform  him.  He  walked 
hastily  to  the  quartette  and,  bursting  with  rage, 
asked  Jones  what  he  meant  by  it. 

"Mean  by  wot,  sir?"  asked  Jones,  in  surprise. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  295 

"  Top-hats,"  said  the  mate,  choking. 

The  four  turned  and  regarded  him  stolidly,  keep- 
ing  as  close  together  as  possible  for  the  sake  of 
moral  support  and  the  safety  of  their  head-gear. 

"  For  the  weddin',  sir,"  said  Jones,  as  though 
that  explained  everything. 

"  You  take  'em  off,"  said  the  mate,  sharply.  "  I 
won't  let  you  wear  'em." 

"  I  beg  your  pardin,"  said  Jones,  with  great 
politeness,  "we  got  these  'ere  'ats  for  the  weddin', 
an*  we're  a-goin'  to  wear  'em." 

He  took  the  offending  article  off  and  brushed  it 
tenderly  with  his  coat-sleeve,  while  the  furious  mate 
looked  assault  and  battery  at  the  other  three.  Tim, 
whose  hat  came  well  down  over  his  eyes,  felt  com- 
paratively safe ;  but  the  cook,  conscious  that  his 
perched  lightly  on  the  top  of  his  head,  drew  back  a 
pace.  Then  he  uttered  an  exclamation  as  Captain 
Nibletts,  who  was  officiating  as  best  man,  came 
hurriedly  down  the  cliff. 

"  Hats  ? "  said  the  little  skipper,  disengaging 
himself  from  the  mate's  grasp,  as  he  came  on  board. 
"Yes,  I  don't  mind." 

"Wot  about  Capt'in  Barber?"  demanded  the 
mate,  impressively. 

"  If  they  was  pudding-basins  'e  wouldn't  mind," 


296  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

said  Nibletts,  testily ;  "  he's  that  nervous  'e  don't 
know  what  Vs  doing  hardly.  He  was  raving  like  a 
madman  for  five  minutes  cos  'e  couldn't  fasten  his 
collar,  and  then  I  found  he'd  forgot  to  put  his  shirt 
on.  He  don't  care." 

He  hurried  down  to  the  cabin  and  then  came 
bustling  up  again.  His  small  face  was  strained  with 
worry,  and  the  crew  eyed  him  respectfully  as  he 
came  forward  and  dealt  out  white  satin  favours. 

"  Cap'in  Barber'll  be  all  right  with  you  looking 
arter  'im,  sir,"  said  Jones,  with  strong  conviction. 

"  That  he  will,"  said  the  cook,  nodding. 

"  There's  some  whisky  in  a  bottle  in  my  locker, 
cook,"  said  Nibletts,  dancing  about  nervously ; 
"  give  the  hands  one  drink  each,  cook.  Only  one, 
mind." 

The  men  thanked  him,  and  with  kindly  eyes 
watched  him  go  ashore.  The  cook  went  down  for 
the  whisky,  and  Tim,  diving  into  the  forecastle, 
brought  up  four  mugs. 

"  He  must  ha'  meant  another  bottle,"  said  Jones, 
as  the  cook  came  slowly  up  again  with  a  bottle 
containing  one  dose. 

"  There  ain't  another,"  said  the  cook  ;  "  he's  'alf 
off  'is  'ed." 

There  was  a  pained  silence.    *"  We  must  toss  for 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  297 

it,"  said  Jones,  at  length ;  "  that  is,  unless  you 
chaps  don't  want  it." 

"  Toss,"  said  three  voices  speaking  as  one. 

Jones  sighed,  and  the  coins  were  produced. 
The  prize  fell  to  Tim,  and  he  leaned  against  the 
windlass  and  slowly  poured  the  yellow  liquid  into 
his  mug. 

"  There's  more  than  I  thought  there  was,"  re- 
marked Mr.  Jones,  in  surprise. 

"  Bottles  is  deceiving,"  said  the  cook. 

"  It  ain't  the  fust  toss  as  Tim  'as  won,"  said  the 
third  man,  darkly. 

The  ordinary  seaman  made  no  reply,  but,  stepping 
over  to  the  water-cask,  added  with  great  care  a  little 
water. 

"  Here's  your  'ealth,  chaps,"  he  said,  good- 
naturedly,  as  he  drank,  "  and  may  you  never  wajit 
a'drink." 

"You've  never  drunk  all  that,  Tim?"  said  Mr. 
Jones,  anxiously. 

Tim  shook  his  head.  "There's  too  much  to 
drink  all  at  once,"  he  said,  gravely,  and  sat,  with  the 
mug  on  his  knee,  gazing  ashore.  "  It's  warming 
me  all  over,"  he  mused.  "  I  never  tasted  sich 
whisky  afore.  I'm  in  a  gentle  glow." 

So  was  the   cook ;   a  glow   which   increased   to 


298  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

fever  heat  as  the  youth  raised  the  mug  to  his  lips 
again,  and  slowly  drained  it  and  handed  it  to  him 
to  wash  up. 

A  little  later  the  men  went  ashore,  and  strolling 
aimlessly  up  and  down  the  road,  passed  the  time 
in  waiting  for  the  ceremony  and  making  sudden 
dashes  after  small  boys  who  were  throwing  at  their 
hats  and  hitting  their  heads. 

Seabridge  itself  was  quiet,  but  Mrs.  Banks' 
house  was  in  a  state  of  ferment.  Ladies  with  pins 
in  their  mouths  wandered  about  restlessly  until, 
coming  into  the  orbit  of  one  of  the  brides,  they 
stuck  one  or  two  into  her  and  then  drew  back  to 
behold  the  effect.  Miss  Banks,  in  white  satin,  moved 
about  stiffly ;  Mrs.  Church,  in  heliotrope,  glanced 
restlessly  up  the  road  every  time  she  got  near  the 
window. 

"  Now  you  sit  down/'  said  one  lady,  at  length, 
"both  of  you.  All  you've  got  to  do  now  is  to  wait 
for  the  gentlemen." 

It  was  whispered  that  Mr.  Gibson's  delay  was  due 
to  the  fact  that  he  had  gone  up  for  Captain  Barber, 
and  as  time  passed  a  certain  restlessness  became 
apparent  in  the  assembly,  and  sympathetic  glances 
were  thrown  in  the  direction  of  Mrs.  Church. 
Places  at  the  window  were  at  a  premium,  and 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  299 

several  guests  went  as  far  as  the  garden  gate  and 
looked  up  the  road.  Still  no  Captain  Barber. 

"It's  time  they  were  here,"  said  Mrs.  Banks  at 
last,  in  a  stern  voice. 

There  was  a  flutter  at  the  gate,  and  a  pretty  girl 
heliographed  with  her  eyes  that  the  parties  of  the 
other  part  were  in  sight.  A  minute  or  two  later 
they  came  into  sight  of  the  window.  Captain 
Barber,  clad  in  beautiful  raiment,  headed  the 
cortege,  the  rear  of  which  was  brought  up  by  the 
crew  of  the  Foam  and  a  cloud  of  light  skirmishers 
which  hovered  on  their  flanks.  As  they  drew  near, 
it  was  noticed  that  Captain  Barber's  face  was  very 
pale,  and  his  hands  trembled,  but  he  entered  the 
house  with  a  firm  step  and  required  no  assistance. 

Of  his  reception  there  was  never  for  a  moment 
any  doubt.  Young  matrons  smiled  and  shook  their 
heads  at  him,  middle-aged  matrons  took  him  by  the 
hand,  while  old  ladies  committed  themselves  to  the 
statement  that  they  had  seen  matrimony  in  his  eye 
for  years.  He  received  the  full  measure  accorded 
to  a  very  distinguished  convert,  and,  taking  a  chair 
placed  against  the  wall,  surveyed  the  company  with 
the  air  of  a  small  boy  who  has  strayed  into  a  hostile 
alley.  A  little  natural  curiosity  found  vent. 

"  Now,  what  first  put  it  into  your  head  to  get 
married  ?  "  ask  one  fair  enquirer. 


300  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"Mrs.  Church/'  said  the  ex-mariner,  simply. 
"  Yes,  of  course,"  said  the   matron  ;  "  but  was  it 
love  at  first  sight,  or  did  it  grow  on  you  before  you 
knew  it?" 

Captain  Barber  blushed.  "  It  growed  on  me 
afore  I  knew  it,"  he  replied,  fervently. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  a  lady  of  a  romantic  turn  of 
mind,  "  that  you  didn't  know  what  was  happening 
at  first?" 

"  I  did  not,  ma'am,"  agreed  the  Captain,  in  trem- 
bling tones.  "Nobody  was  more  surprised  than 
wot  I  was." 

"  How  strange,"  said  two  or  three  voices. 
They  regarded  him  tenderly,  and   the   youngest 
bridesmaid,  a  terrible  child  of  ten,   climbed    up  on 
his  k.nee  and   made   audible   comparisons   between 
the  two  bridegrooms,  which  made  Mr.  Gibson  smile. 
"  Time  we  started,  "  said  Mrs.  Banks,  raising  her 
voice  above  the  din.     "  Cap'in  Barber,  you  and  Mr. 
Gibson   and  the    other  gentlemen  had  better  get 
to  the  church." 

The  men  got  up  obediently,  and  in  solemn  silence 

formed  up  in  the  little  passage,  and  then  started  for 

the  church  some   two  hundred   yards  distant,   the 

crew  of  the  Foam  falling  in  behind  unchallenged. 

To  this  day  Captain  Barber  does  not   know  how 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  301 

he  got  there,  and  he  resolutely  declines  to  accept 
Captain  Niblett's  version  as  the  mere  offspring  of  a 
disordered  imagination.  He  also  denies  the  truth 
of  a  statement  circulated  in  the  town  that  night 
that,  instead  of  replying  to  a  leading  question  in 
the  manner  plainly  laid  down  in  the  Church  Ser- 
vice, he  answered,  "  I  suppose  so." 

He  came  out  of  the  church  with  a  buzzing  in  his 
ears  and  a  mist  before  his  eyes.  Something  was 
clinging  to  his  arm,  which  he  tried  several  times  to 
shake  off.  Then  he  discovered  that  it  was  Mrs. 
Barber. 

Of  the  doings  of  the  crew  of  the  Foam  that  night 
it  were  better  not  to  speak.  Suffice  it  to  say  that 
when  they  at  length  boarded  their  ship  Tim  was 
the  only  one  who  still  possessed  a  hat,  and  in  a  fit 
of  pride  at  the  circumstance,  coupled,  perhaps,  with 
other  reasons,  went  to  bed  in  it.  He  slept  but  ill, 
however,  and  at  4  A.  M.,  the  tide  being  then  just  on 
the  ebb,  the  only  silk  hat  in  the  forecastle  went 
bobbing  up  and  down  on  its  way  to  the  sea. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

A  FINE  October  gave  way  to  a  damp  and  dreary 
November ;  a  month  of  mists  and  fogs,  in  which 
shipping  of  all  sizes  and  all  nations  played  blind 
man's  buff  at  sea,  and  felt  their  way,  mere  voices 
crying  in  the  wilderness,  up  and  down  the  river. 
The  Swallow,  with  a  soul  too  large  for  its  body, 
cannoned  a  first-class  battleship  off  the  Medway, 
and  with  a  thoughtfulness  too  often  lacking  at  sea, 
stood  by  and  lowered  a  boat,  whereupon  the  cap- 
tain, who  had  been  worrying  about  his  paint,  in- 
vented, in  his  surprise,  a  brand-new  adjective  for 
the  use  of  senior  officers  of  the  British  Navy. 

Over  three  months  had  elapsed  since  the  Golden 
Cloud  set  out  on  her  long  voyage ;  three  months 
during  which  Fraser,  despite  his  better  sense,  had 
been  a  constant  visitor  of  Poppy  Tyrell's,  and  had 
assisted  her  in  the  search  for  fresh  lodgings  to 
avoid  the  attentions  of  Mr.  Bob  Wheeler,  who,  hav- 
ing discovered  her  whereabouts,  had  chosen  to 
renew  his  suit. 

On  two  or  three   occasions  the  girl  had  accom- 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  303 

parried  him  on  board  the  steamer,  and  at  such 
times  it  was  Mr.  Green's  pleasure  to  wink  in  a 
frenzied  manner  at  Mr.  Joe  Smith  and  to  make 
divers  bets  of  pints  of  beer,  which  made  that 
thirsty  soul  half  crazy  to  listen  to.  He  also  said 
that  any  one  with  half  an  eye  could  see  what  was  in 
the  wind. 

"And  a  very  nice  couple  they'll  make,  too," 
said  Joe,  solemnly. 

"An*  what  about  Cap'in  Flower?"  suggested 
Mr.  Green  ;  "  she's  evident  the  young  lady  he  was 
talking  about  that  night,  and  Tommy's  heard  'em 
speaking  about  him  once  or  twice,  too/* 

Joe  shuffled  uneasily.  He  was  beginning  to  en- 
tertain a  considerable  regard  for  his  new  skipper, 
dating  from  the  time  he  discovered  that  his  sinister 
suspicions  concerning  him  were  unfounded.  He 
had  moreover  conceived  a  dog-like  admiration  for 
Poppy  Tyrell. 

"That's  'is  business,"  he  said,  shortly  ;  "judging 
by  what  you  'card  in  that  pub,  Cap'in  Flower 
knows  where  to  put  'is  hand  on  one  or  two  more  if 
'e  wants  'em." 

He  walked  off  in  dudgeon,  ignoring  a  question  by 
Mr.  Green  as  to  whose  foot  kep'  the  door  open,  and 
felt  dimly  the  force  of  the  diction  that  no  man  can 


304  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

serve  two  masters  ;  and,  with  a  view  to  saving  him- 
self worry,  dismissed  the  matter  from  his  mind 
until  some  weeks  afterwards  it  was  forcibly  revived 
by  the  perusal  of  a  newspaper  which  the  engineer 
had  brought  on  board.  Without  giving  himself 
time  for  due  reflection,  he  ran  up  on  deck  and  ap- 
proached the  skipper. 

"  Golden  Cloud's  in  the  paper  as  overdue,  sir,"  he 
said,  respectfully. 

"  What  is?  "  enquired  Fraser,  sharply. 

"  Golden  Cloud,  sir ;  boat  Cap'in  Flower  is  on," 
said  Joe,  slowly. 

Fraser  regarded  him  sternly.  "  What  do  you 
know  about  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

Joe  looked  round  helplessly.  At  such  moments 
Willyum  Green  was  a  tower  of  strength,  but  at  the 
present  time  he  was  fooling  about  helping  the  ship's 
cat  to  wash  itself. 

"  What  do  you  know  about  it  ?  "  repeated 
Fraser. 

"  Will-yum  told  me,  sir,"  said  Joe,  hastily. 

Mr.  Green  being  summoned,  hastily  put  down 
the  cat  and  came  aft,  while  Joe,  with  a  full  confi- 
dence in  his  friend's  powers,  edged  a  few  feet  away, 
and  listened  expectantly  as  the  skipper  interrogated 
him. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  305 

"Yes,  sir,  I  did  tell  Joe,  sir,"  he  answered,  with  a 
reproachfuPglance  at  that  amateur.  "  I  met  Cap'in 
Flower  that  evening  again,  late,  an'  he  told  me 
himself.  I'm  sorry  to  see  by  this  morning's  paper 
that  his  ship  is  overdue." 

"  That'll  do,"  said  Fraser,  turning  away. 

The  men  moved  off  slowly,  Mr.  Green's  re- 
proaches being  forestalled  by  the  evidently  genuine 
compliments  of  Joe. 

"  If  I'd  got  a  'ead  like  you,  Will-yum,"  he  said, 
enviously,  "  I'd  be  a  loryer  or  a  serlicitor,  or  some- 
think  o'  the  kind." 

Days  passed  and  ran  into  weeks,  but  the  Golden 
Cloud  was  still  unspoken.  Fraser  got  a  paper  every 
day  when  ashore,  but  in  vain,  until  at  length  one 
morning,  at  Bittlesea,  in  the  news  columns  of  the 
Daily  Telegraph,  the  name  of  the  missing  ship 
caught  his  eye.  He  folded  the  paper  hurriedly,  and 
breathed  hard  as  he  read  : — 

"  Missing  ship,  Golden  Cloud. 

"  Rio  Janeiro,  Thursday. 

"The  barque  Foxglove,  from  Melbourne  to  Rio 
Janeiro,  has  just  arrived  with  five  men,  sole  survivors 
of  the  ship  Golden  Cloud,  which  they  report  as  sunk 
in  collision  with  a  steamer,  name  unknown,  ten 
weeks  out  from  London.  Their  names  are  Smith, 


306  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

Larsen,  Petersen,  Collins  and  Gooch.  No  other* 
saved." 

In  a  dazed  fashion  he  read  the  paragraph  over 
and  over  again,  closely  scanning  the  names  of  the  res- 
cued men.  Then  he  went  up  on  deck,  and  beckoning 
to  Joe,  pointed  with  a  trembling  finger  to  the  fatal 
paragraph.  Joe  read  it  slowly. 

"And  Cap'in  Flower  wasn't  one  o' them,  sir?" 
he  asked,  pointing  to  the  names. 

Fraser  shook  his  head,  and  both  men  stood  for 
some  time  in  silence. 

"  He's  done  it  this  time,  and  no  mistake,"  said  Joe, 
at  last.  "  Well,  'e  was  a  good  sailorman  and  a  kind 
master." 

He  handed  the  paper  back,  and  returned  to  his 
work  and  to  confer  in  a  low  voice  with  Green,  who 
had  been  watching  them.  Fraser  went  back  to  the 
cabin,  and  after  sitting  for  some  time  in  a  brown 
study,  wrote  off  to  Poppy  Tyrell  and  enclosed  the 
cutting. 

He  saw  her  three  days  later,  and  was  dismayed 
and  surprised  to  find  her  taxing  herself  with  being 
the  cause  of  the  adventurous  mariner's  death. 

"He  would  never  have  heard  of  the  Golden  Cloud 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  me,  "  she  said,  trembling. 
"  His  death  is  at  my  door." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  307 

Fraser  tried  to  comfort  her  and  straining  metaphor 
to  the  utmost,  said  that  if  the  finger  of  Providence  had 
not  made  her  oversleep  herself  she  would  undoubt- 
edly have  shared  the  same  fate. 

The  girl  shook  her  head. 

"  He  shipped  before  the  mast  for  the  sake  of  being 
on  the  same  ship  as  I  was,"  she  said,  with  quivering 
lip  ;  "it  is  not  every  man  who  would  have*  done 
that,  and  I— I— 

"  Overslept  yourself,"  said  Fraser,  consolingly. 

Miss  Tyrell  made  an  impatient  gesture,  but  lis- 
tened hopefully  as  her  visitor  suggested  that  it  was 
quite  possible  Flower  had  got  away  in  another 
boat. 

"  I'll  watch  the  paper  every  day,"  she  said,  bright- 
ening ;  "  you  miss  some  at  sea." 

But  nothing  came  of  the  watching.  The  Golden 
Cloud  had  had  its  obituary  in  the  paper  in  large  type, 
and  that  was  all — a  notice  to  certain  women  and 
children  scattered  about  Europe  to  go  into  mourn- 
ing and  to  the  owners  to  get  another  ship. 

By  the  end  of  the  couple  of  months  Fraser  had 
given  up  all  hope.  He  was  very  sorry  for  his  un- 
fortunate friend,  but  his  sorrow  was  at  times  almost 
tempered  by  envy  as  he  pondered  over  the  un- 
expected change  which  had  come  over  his  relations 


308  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

with  Poppy  Tyrell.  The  old  friendly  footing  had 
disappeared,  and  her  manner  had  become  distant  as 
though,  now  that  the  only  link  which  connected 
them  was  broken,  there  was  no  need  for  further  in- 
tercourse. The  stiffness  which  ensued  made  his 
visits  more  and  more  difficult.  At  last  he  missed 
calling  one  night  when  he  was  in  London,  and  the 
next  time  he  called  the  girl  was  out.  It  was  a  fort- 
night before  he  saw  her,  and  the  meeting  was  em- 
barrassing to  both. 

"  I'm  sorry  I  was  out  last  time  you  came/'  said 
Poppy. 

"  It  didn't  matter,"  said  Fraser. 

Conversation  came  to  a  standstill.  Miss  Tyrell, 
with  her  toes  on  the  fender,  gazed  in  a  contempla- 
tive fashion  at  the  fire.  "  I  didn't  know "  be- 
gan Fraser,  who  was  still  standing. 

He  cleared  his  voice  and  began  again.  "  I  didn't 
know  whether  you  would  rather  I  left  off  coming," 
he  said,  slowly. 

Her  gaze  travelled  slowly  from  the  fire  to  his 
face.  "You  must  please  yourself,"  she  said, 
quietly. 

"  I  would  rather  please  you,"  he  said,  steadily. 

The  girl  regarded  him  gravely.  "  It  is  rather 
inconvenient  for  you  sometimes,"  she  suggested, 
"  and  I  am  afraid  that  I  am  not  very  good  company." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  309 

Fraser  shook  his  head  eagerly.  "  It  is  not  that 
at  all,"  he  said  hastily. 

Poppy  made  no  reply,  and  there  was  another  long 
silence.  Then  Fraser  advanced  and  held  out  his 
hand. 

"  Good-bye/'  he  said,  quietly. 

"  Good-bye,"  said  the  girl.  She  smiled  brightly, 
and  got  up  to  see  him  downstairs. 

"  I  wanted  to  say  something  before  I  went,"  said 
Fraser,  slowly,  as  he  paused  at  the  street-door,  "  and 
I  will  say  it." 

Miss  Tyrell,  raising  her  eyebrows  somewhat  at 
his  vehemence,  waited  patiently. 

"  I  have  loved  you  from  the  moment  I  saw  you," 
said  Fraser,  "  and  I  shall  go  on  loving  you  till  I  die. 
Good-bye." 

He  pressed  her  hand  again,  and  walked  down  the 
little  front  garden  into  the  street.  At  the  gate  he 
paused  and  looked  round  at  Poppy  still  standing  in 
the  lighted  doorway ;  he  looked  round  again  a  few 
yards  down  the  street,  and  again  farther  on.  The 
girl  still  stood  there ;  in  the  momentary  glimpse  he 
had  of  her  he  fancied  that  her  arm  moved.  He 
came  back  hastily,  and  Miss  Tyrell  regarded  him 
with  unmistakable  surprise. 

•v  i  thought — you  beckoned  me,"  he  stammered. 


3io  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  Thought  I  beckoned  you  ?  "  repeated  the  girl. 

"  I  thought  so,"  murmured  Fraser.  "  I  beg  your 
pardon,"  and  turned  confusedly  to  go  again. 

"  So — I —  did,"  said  a  low  voice. 

Fraser  turned  suddenly  and  faced  her ;  then,  as 
the  girl  lowered  her  eyes  before  his,  he  re-entered 
the  house,  and  closing  the  door  led  her  gently  up. 
stairs. 

"  I  didn't  like  you  to  go  like  that,"  said  Miss 
Tyrell,  in  explanation,  as  they  entered  her  room. 

Fraser  regarded  her  steadfastly  and  her  eyes 
smiled  at  him.  He  drew  her  towards  him  and 
kissed  her,  and  Miss  Tyrell,  trembling  with  some- 
thing which  might  have  been  indignation,  hid  her 
face  on  his  shoulder. 

For  a  long  time,  unless  certain  foolish  ejacula- 
tions of  Fraser's  might  count  as  conversation,  they 
stood  silent ;  then  Poppy,  extricating  herself  from 
his  arm,  drew  back  and  regarded  him  seriously. 

"It  is  not  right,"  she  said,  slowly;  "you  forget." 

"  It  is  quite  right,"  said  Fraser  ;  "  it  is  as  right  as 
anything  can  be." 

Poppy  shook  her  head.  "  It  has  been  wrong  all 
along,"  she  said,  soberly,  "  and  Captain  Flower  is 
dead  in  consequence.  I  never  intended  to  go  on 
the  Golden  Cloud,  but  I  let  him  go.  And  now  he's 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  311 

dead.  He  only  went  to  be  near  me,  and  while  he 
was  drowning  I  was  going  out  with  you.  I  have 
been  very  wicked." 

Fraser  protested,  and,  taking  her  hand,  drew  her 
gently  towards  him  again. 

"  He  was  very  good  to  my  father,"  said  Poppy, 
struggling  faintly.  "  I  don't  think  I  can." 

"You  must,"  said  Fraser,  doggedly;  "  I'm  not 
going  to  lose  you  now.  It  is  no  good  looking  at 
me  like  that.  It  is  too  late." 

He  kissed  her  again,  secretly  astonished  at  his 
own  audacity,  and  the  high-handed  way  in  which 
he  was  conducting  things.  Mixed  with  his  joy  was 
a  half-pang,  as  he  realised  that  he  had  lost  his  fear 
of  Poppy  Tyrell. 

"  I  promised  my  father/'  said  the  girl,  presently. 
"  I  did  not  want  to  get  married,  but  I  did  not  mind 
so  much  until " 

"  Until,"  Fraser  reminded  her,  fondly. 

"Until  it  began  to  get  near,"  said  the  girl; 
"  then  I  knew." 

She  took  her  chair  by  the  fire  again,  and  Fraser, 
placing  his  beside  it,  they  sat  hand  in  hand  discuss- 
ing the  future.  It  was  a  comprehensive  future,  and 
even  included  Captain  Flower. 

"  If  he  should  be  alive,  after  all,"  said   Poppy, 


312  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

with  unmistakable  firmness,  "  I  shall  still  marry 
him  if  he  wishes  it." 

Fraser  assented.  "  If  he  should  ever  turn  up 
again,"  he  said,  deliberately,  "  I  will  tell  him  all 
about  it.  But  it  was  his  own  desire  that  I  should 
watch  over  you  if  anything  happened  to  him,  so  he 
is  as  much  to  blame  as  I  am.  If  he  had  lived  I 
should  never  have  said  a  word  to  you.  You  know 
that." 

"  I  know,"  said  Poppy,  softly. 

Her  hand  trembled  in  his,  and  his  grasp  tightened 
as  though  nothing  should  loosen  it ;  but  some 
thousands  of  miles  away  Captain  Flower,  from  the 
deck  of  a  whaler,  was  anxiously  scanning  the  hori- 
zon in  search  of  the  sail  which  was  to  convey  him 
back  to  England. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

TIME  as  it  rolled  on  set  at  rest  any  doubts  Miss 
Tyrell  might  have  had  concerning  the  fate  of 
Captain  Flower,  and  under  considerable  pressure 
from  Fraser,  she  had  consented  to  marry  him  in 
June.  The  only  real  reason  for  choosing  that 
month  was,  that  it  was  close  at  hand,  though  Fraser 
supplied  her  with  several  others  to  choose  from. 
Their  engagement  could  hardly  have  been  said  to 
have  been  announced,  for  with  the  exception  of  old 
Mr.  Fraser  and  the  crew  of  the  Swallow,  who  had 
gleaned  the  fact  for  themselves  without  any  undue 
strain  on  their  intellects,  there  was  nobody  to  tell. 

The  boy  was  the  first  to  discover  it.  According 
to  his  own  indignant  account,  he  went  down  to  the 
cabin  to  see  whether  there  was  anything  he  could 
do,  and  was  promptly  provided  with  three  weeks' 
hard  labour  by  his  indignant  skipper.  A  little  dis- 
sertation in  which  he  indulged  in  the  forecastle  on 
division  of  labour  met  with  but  scant  response  ;  Joe 
said  that  work  was  good  for  boys,  and  Mr.  Green 
said  that  he  knew  a  boy  who  worked  eighteen  hours 


314  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

a  day,  and  then  used  to  do  sums  in  his  sleep  to  im- 
prove his  education.  The  other  men  set  their  wits 
to  work  then,  and  proved  to  have  so  large  an  ac- 
quaintance with  a  type  of  boy  that  Tommy  loathed, 
that  he  received  a  mild  chastisement  for  imperti- 
nence to  his  elders  and  betters. 

It  wanted  but  two  days  to  the  wedding.  The 
Swallow  was  lying  in  the  river,  her  deck  unoccu- 
pied except  for  Mr.  Green  and  the  boy,  who  were 
smoking  in  the  bows,  and  the  ship's  cat,  which, 
with  one  eye  on  Mr.  Green,  was  stalking  the  frying- 
pan.  Fraser  had  gone  ashore  on  business  connected 
with  his  wedding-garments,  and  Poppy  Tyrell,  with 
all  her  earthly  belongings  in  a  couple  of  boxes,  sat 
in  the  cabin  dreaming  of  her  future. 

A  boat  bumped  against  the  side  of  the  steamer, 
and  Mr.  Green,  looking  round,  observed  the  long 
form  of  Joe  scrambling  over  the  side.  His  appear- 
ance betokened  alarm  and  haste,  and  Mr.  Green, 
after  a  brief  remark  on  the  extravagance,  not  to  say 
lordliness,  of  a  waterman's  skiff  when  a  hail  would 
have  taken  the  ship's  boat  to  him,  demanded  to 
know  what  was  the  matter. 

"  Send  that  boy  below,"  said  Joe,  hastily. 

"What  for?"  enquired  the  gentleman  interested, 
rebclliously. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  315 

"You  go  below,"  repeated  Joe,  sternly,  "  'fore  I 
take  you  by  the  scruff  o'  your  little  neck  and  drop 
you  down." 

The  boy,  with  a  few  remarks  about  the  rights  of 
man  in  general  and  ships'  boys  in  particular,  took 
his  departure,  and  Joe,  taking  the  startled  Mr. 
Green  by  the  arm,  led  him  farther  aft. 

"  You've  got  a  'ead  on  you  Will-yum,  I  know,"  he 
said,  in  a  fierce  whisper. 

"  People  have  said  so,"  remarked  the  other,  mod- 
estly. "What's  the  row?" 

For  answer,  Joe  pointed  to  the  cabin,  and  that 
with  so  much  expression  on  his  features  that  Mr. 
Green,  following  his  gaze,  half  expected  to  see 
something  horrible  emerge  from  the  companion. 

"  It's  all  up,"  said  the  tall  seaman,  poetically. 
"  You  can  put  the  wedding-dress  away  in  brown 
paper,  and  tell  the  church  bells  as  there  is  no  call 
for  'em  to  ring :  Cap'n  Flower  has  turned  up  ag'in." 

"  WHAT?  "  cried  the  astonished  Mr.  Green. 

"  I  see  'im,"  replied  Joe.  "  I  was  just  goin'  on 
the  wharf  as  I  passed  te  speak  to  old  George,  when 
I  see  'im  talking  to  'im.  He  didn't  see  me,  an'  I 
come  off  'ere  as  fast  as  my  legs  could  carry  me. 
Now,  wot's  to  be  done  ?  You've  got  the  'ead-piece." 

Mr.  Green  scratched  the  article  in  question  and 
smiled  feebly. 


3i6  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  On'y  two  days,  and  they  would  ha'  been  mar- 
ried," said  Joe ;  "  bit  'ard,  ain't  it  ?  I'm  glad  as  I 
can  be  as  he's  safe,  but  he  might  ha'  waited  a  day 
or  two  longer." 

"  Did  George  seem  scared  ?  "  enquired  his  friend. 

"Wot'sthat  got  to  do  with  it?"  demanded  Joe, 
violently.  "  Are  you  goin'  to  set  that  'ead-piece  to 
work  or  are  you  not  ?  " 

Mr.  Green  coughed  confusedly,  and  attempted  to 
think  with  a  brain  which  was  already  giddy  with 
responsibility. 

"  I  don't  want  to  do  anything  that  isn't  straight 
and  gentlemanly,"  he  remarked. 

"  Straight  ?  "  repeated  Joe.  "  Look  'ere  !  Cap'n 
Fraser's  our  old  man,  ain't  he  ?  Very  good,  it's 
our  dooty  to  stand  by  'im.  But,  besides  that,  it's 
for  the  young  lady's  sake :  it's  easy  to  see  that 
she's  as  fond  of  him  as  she  can  be,  and  she's  that 
sort  o'  young  lady  that  if  she  come  up  now  and 
told  me  to  jump  overboard,  I'd  do  it." 

"You  could  swim  ashore  easy,"  asserted  Mr. 
Green. 

"  They  was  to  be  married  Thursday  morning," 
continued  Joe,  "and  now  here's  Cap'n  Flower  and 
no  'ead-piece  on  the  ship.  Crool,  I  call  it." 

"  She's  a  very  nice  young  lady,"  said  the  morti- 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  317 

fied  Mr.  Green ;  "  always  a  pleasant  smile  for 
everybody." 

"  He'll  come  aboard  'ere  as  safe  as  heggs  is 
heggs,"  said  Joe,  despondently.  "Wot's  to  be 
done?" 

He  folded  his  arms  on  the  side  and  stood  rue- 
fully watching  the  stairs.  He  was  quite  confident 
that  there  were  head-pieces  walking  the  earth,  to 
which  a  satisfactory  solution  of  this  problem  would 
have  afforded  no  difficulty  whatever,  and  he  shook 
his  own  sadly,  as  he  thought  of  its  limitations. 

"  It  only  wants  a  little  artfulness,  Will-yum,"  he 
suggested,  encouragingly. 

"  Get  hold  of  him  and  make  him  drunk  for  three 
days,"  murmured  Mr.  Green,  in  a  voice  so  low  that 
he  half  hoped  Joe  would  not  hear  it. 

"  And  then  boil  'im,"  said  the  indignant  seaman, 
without  looking  round.  "  Ah !  Here  he  comes. 
Now  you've  got  to  be  astonished,  mind  ;  but  don't 
make  a  noise,  in  case  it  fetches  the  young  lady  up." 

He  pointed  to  the  stairs,  and  his  friend,  going  to 
his  side,  saw  a  passenger  just  stepping  into  a  boat. 
The  two  men  then  turned  away  until,  at  sight  of 
Captain  Flower's  head  appearing  above  the  side, 
they  went  off  into  such  silent  manifestations  of  hor- 
ror and  astonishment  that  he  feared  for  their  reason. 


318  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  It's  'is  voice,"  said  Joe,  hastily,  as  Flower 
bawled  out  to  them  with  inconsiderate  loudness. 
"  I  never  thought  to  see  you  ag'in,  sir ;  I  'card  you 
was  drowned  months  and  months  ago." 

He  took  the  captai'n's  proffered  hand  somewhat 
awkwardly,  and  stood  closely  scanning  him.  The 
visitor  was  bronzed  with  southern  suns,  and  looked 
strong  and  well.  His  eye  was  bright  and  his 
manner  retained  all  its  old  easy  confidence. 

"  Ah,  IVe  been  through  something  since  I  saw 
you  last,  my  lad,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head.  "  The 
great  thing  is,  Joe,  to  always  keep  your  head  above 
water." 

"Yessir,"  said  the  seaman,  slowly;  "  but  I  'card 
as  'ow  you  went  down  with  the  Golden  Cloud,  sir." 

"  So  I  did, "  said  Flower,  somewhat  boastfully, 
"  and  came  up  again  with  the  nearest  land  a  mile 
or  two  under  my  feet.  It  was  dark,  but  the  sea 
was  calm,  and  I  could  see  the  brute  that  sunk  us 
keeping  on  her  way.  Then  I  saw  a  hen-coop  bob- 
bing up  and  down  close  by,  and  I  got  to  it  just  in 
time,  and  hung  on  to  it  until  I  could  get  my 
breath  again  and  shout.  I  heard  a  hail  a  little  way 
off,  and  by-and-by  I  got  along-side  two  of  our  chaps 
making  themselves  comfortable  on  two  or  three 
spars.  There  were  three  drowned  fowls  in  my 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  319 

coop,  and  we  finished  them  on  the  fourth  day  just 
as  a  whaler  hove  in  sight  and  took  us  off.  We  were 
on  her  over  four  months,  and  then  we  sighted  the 
barque  California,  homeward  bound,  and  she 
brought  us  home.  I  landed  at  the  Albert  Docks 
this  morning,  and  here  I  am,  hard  as  nails." 

Joe,  with  a  troubled  eye  in  the  direction  of  the 
cabin,  murmured  that  it  did  him  credit,  and  Mr. 
Green  made  a  low,  hissing  noise,  intended  to  signify 
admiration.  Flower,  with  a  cheery  smile,  looked 
round  the  deck. 

"Where's  Fraser?"  he  enquired. 

"  He's  ashore,  sir,"  said  Joe,  hastily.  "  I  don't 
know  when  he'll  be  back." 

"  Never  mind,  I'll  wait,"  was  the  reply.  "  George 
was  telling  me  he  is  to  be  married  on  Thursday." 

Joe  gasped  and  eyed  him  closely. 

"  So  I've  "card,  sir." 

"And  Captain  Barber's  married,  too,  George  tells 
me,"  said  Flower.  "  I  suppose  that's  right?  " 

"So  I've  'card,  sir,"  said  Joe,  again. 

Flower  turned  and  paced  a  little  up  and  down 
the  deck,  deep  in  thought.  He  had  arrived  in 
London  three  hours  before  to  find  that  Poppy  had 
left  her  old  lodgings  without  leaving  any  clue 
as  to  her  whereabouts.  Then  he  had  gone  on  to 


320  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

the  Wheelers,  without  any  result,  so  far  as  he  was 
concerned,  although  the  screams  of  the  unfortu- 
nate Mrs.  Wheeler  were  still  ringing  in  his  ears. 

"  I'll  go  down  below  and  wait,"  he  said,  stopping 
before  the  men.  "  Tell  Fraser  I'm  there,  or  else 
he'll  be  startled.  I  nearly  killed  poor  old  George. 
The  man's  got  no  pluck  at  all." 

He  moved  slowly  towards  the  cabin  and  Poppy, 
leaving  the  men  exchanging  glances  of  hopeless 
consternation.  Then,  as  he  turned  to  descend,  the 
desperate  Joe  ran  up  and  laid  a  detaining  hand  on 
his  sleeve. 

"  You  can't  go  down  there,"  he  whispered,  and 
dragged  him  forcibly  away. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  demanded  the  other,  struggling. 
"  Let  go,  you  fool." 

He  wrenched  himself  free,  and  stood  gazing 
angrily  at  the  excited  seaman. 

"  There's  a  lady  down  there,"  said  the  latter,  in 
explanation. 

"Well,  I  sha'n't  eat  her/'  said  the  indignant 
Flower.  "  Don't  you  put  your  hands  on  me  again, 
my  lad,  or  you'll  repent  it.  Who  is  it  ?  " 

Joe  eyed  him  helplessly  and,  with  a  dim  idea  of 
putting  off  the  discovery  as  long  as  possible,  myste- 
riouly  beckoned  him  forward. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  321 

"  Who  is  it  ?"  asked  the  puzzled  Flower,  advan- 
cing a  pace  or  two. 

The  seaman  hesitated.  Then  a  sudden  inspira- 
tion, born  of  the  memories  of  last  year's  proceed- 
ings, seized  him,  and  he  shook  with  the  brilliancy 
of  it.  He  looked  significantly  at  Mr.  Green,  and 
his  voice  trembled  with  excitement. 

"  The  lady  who  used  to  come  down  to  the  Foam 
asking  for  Mr.  Robinson,"  he  stammered. 

"What?"  said  the  dismayed  Flower,  coming 
briskly  forward  and  interposing  two  masts,  the  fun- 
nel, and  the  galley  between  himself  and  the  cabin. 
"  Why  on  earth  didn't  you  say  so  before?" 

"Well,  I  didn't  know  what  to  do,  sir,"  said  Joe, 
humbly ;  "  it  ain't  for  the  likes  of  me  to  inter- 
fere." 

Flower  knit  his  brows,  and  tapped  the  deck  with 
his  foot. 

"  What's  she  doing  down  there?"  he  said,  irri- 
tably ;  "she's  not  going  to  marry  Fraser,  is  she? " 

Joe  gulped. 

"Yessir,"  he  said,  promptly. 

"Yessir,"  said  Mr.  Green,  with  an  intuitive  feel- 
ing that  a  lie  of  such  proportions  required  backing. 

Flower  stood  in  amaze,  pondering  the  situation, 
and  a  grin  slowly  broke  the  corners  of  his  mouth. 


322  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

"  Don't  tell  Fraser  I've  been  here,"  he  said,  at 
length. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Joe,  eagerly. 

"  I'll  see  him  in  a  day  or  two,"  said  Flower, 
"  after  he's  married.  You  understand  me,  Joe  ?  " 

"Yessir,"  said  Joe,  again.  "Shall  I  put  you 
ashore,  sir?  " 

He  was  almost  dancing  with  impatience  lest 
Fraser  or  Poppy  should  spoil  his  plans  by  putting 
in  an  appearance,  but  before  Flower  could  reply 
Mr.  Green  gave  a  startled  exclamation,  and  the 
captain,  with  a  readiness  born  of  his  adventures  of 
the  last  year,  promptly  vanished  down  the  fore- 
castle as  Miss  Tyrell  appeared  on  deck.  Joe  closed 
the  scuttle,  and  with  despair  gnawing  at  his  vitals 
sat  on  it. 

Unconscious  of  the  interest  she  was  exciting, 
Poppy  Tyrell,  who  had  tired  of  the  solitude  of  the 
cabin,  took  a  seat  on  a  camp-stool,  and,  folding  her 
hands  in  her  tap,  sat  enjoying  the  peace  and  calm  of 
the  summer  evening.  Joe  saw  defeat  in  the  very 
moment  of  victory ;  even  while  he  sat,  the  garrul- 
ous Tommy  might  be  revealing  State  secrets  to  the 
credulous  Flower. 

"  Get  her  down  below,"  he  whispered,  fiercely,  to 
Mr.  Green.  "  Quick  !  " 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  323 

His  friend  stared  at  him  aghast,  but  made  no 
movement.  He  looked  at  the  unconscious  Poppy, 
and  then  back  at  the  mouthing  figure  seated  on  the 
scuttle.  His  brain  was  numbed.  Then  a  little 
performance  on  Charlie's  part  a  week  or  two  before, 
which  had  cost  that  gentleman  his  berth,  occurred 
to  him,  and  he  moved  slowly  forward. 

For  a  moment  the  astonished  Joe  gazed  at  hirn 
in  wrathful  bewilderment ;  then  his  brow  cleared, 
and  his  old  estimate  of  his  friend  was  revived  again. 
Mr.  Green  lurched  rather  than  walked,  and,  getting 
as  far  as  the  galley,  steadied  himself  with  one  hand, 
and  stood,  with  a  foolish  smile,  swaying  lightly  in 
the  breeze.  Fr®m  the  galley  he  got  with  great  care 
to  the  side  of  the  ship  opposite  Poppy,  and,  clutch- 
ing the  shrouds,  beamed  on  her  amiably.  The  girl 
gave  one  rapid  glance  at  him  and  then,  as  he  tot- 
tered to  the  wheel  and  hung  on  by  the  spokes, 
turned  her  head  away.  What  it  cost  the  well-bred 
Mr.  Green  to  stagger  as  he  came  by  her  again  and 
then  roll  helplessly  at  her  feet,  will  never  be  known, 
and  he  groaned  in  spirit  as  the  girl,  with  one  scorn- 
ful glance  in  his  direction,  rose  quietly  and  went 
below  again. 

Satisfied  that  the  coast  was  clear,  he  rose  to  his 
feet  and  signalled  hurriedly  to  Joe,  then  he  mounted 


324  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

sentry  over  the  companion,  grinning  feebly  at  the 
success  of  his  manoeuvres  as  he  heard  a  door  closed 
and  locked  below. 

"  You  pull  me  round  to  the  wharf,  Joe,"  said 
Flower,  as  he  tumbled  hurriedly  into  the  boat. 
"  I  don't  want  to  run  into  Fraser,  and  I  just  want 
to  give  old  George  the  tip  to  keep  quiet  for  a  day 
or  two." 

The  seaman  obeyed  readily,  and  exchanged  a 
triumphant  glance  with  Mr.  Green  as  they  shot  by 
the  steamer's  stern.  His  invention  was  somewhat 
tried  by  Flower's  questions  on  the  way  to  the 
wharf,  but  he  answered  them  satisfactorily,  and  left 
him  standing  on  the  jetty  imparting  to  George  val- 
uable thoughts  on  the  maxim  that  speech  is  silver 
and  silence  golden. 

Joe  tried  a  few  of  the  principal  points  with 
Tommy  upon  his  return  to  the  steamer,  the  neces- 
sity for  using  compliments  instead  of  threats  to  a 
ship's  boy  being  very  galling  to  his  proud  nature. 

"  You  be  a  good  boy  like  you  always  'ave  been, 
Tommy,"  he  said,  with  a  kindly  smile,  "  and  don't 
breathe  a  word  about  wot's  'appened  this  evening, 
and  'ere's  a  tanner  for  you  to  spend — a  whole 
tanner." 

Tommy  bit  it  carefully,  and,  placing  it  in  his 
pocket,  whistled  thoughtfully. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  325 

"  Fill  your  pipe  out  o'  that,  young  'un,"  said  Mr. 
Green,  proffering  his  pouch  with  a  flourish. 

The  boy  complied,  and  putting  a  few  reserve 
charges  in  his  pocket,  looked  up  at  him  shrewdly. 

"  Is  it  very  partikler  ?  "  he  enquired,  softly. 

"Partikler  !  "  repeated  Joe.  "I  should  think  it 
is.  He  can't  think  'ow  partikler  it  is,  can  'e,  Will- 
yum  ?  " 

Mr.  Green  shook  his  head. 

"  It's  worth  more  than  a  tanner  then,"  said 
Tommy,  briskly. 

"  Look  'ere,"  said  Joe,  suppressing  his  natural 
instincts  by  a  strong  effort.  "  You  keep  quiet  for 
three  days,  and  I'll  be  a  friend  to  you  for  life. 
And  so  will  Will-yum,  won't  you,  old  man  ?  " 

Mr.  Green,  with  a  smile  of  rare  condescension, 
said  that  he  would. 

"  Look  'ere,"  said  the  bargainer,  "  I'll  tell  you 
what  I'll  do  for  you :  you  gimme  another  tanner 
each  instead,  and  that's  letting  you  off  cheap,  'cos 
your  friendship  'ud  be  worth  pounds  and  pounds 
to  anybody  what  wanted  it." 

He  gazed  firmly  at  his  speechless,  would-be 
friends  and  waited  patiently  until  such  time  as 
their  emotion  would  permit  of  a  reply.  Joe  was 
the  first  to  speak,  and  Tommy  listened  unmoved  to 


326  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

a  description  of  himself  which  would  have  made  a 
jelly-fish  blush. 

"  Tanner  each,"  he  said,  simply  ;  "  I  don't  want 
friends  who  can  talk  like  that  to  save  sixpence." 

Mr.  Green,  with  a  sarcasm  which  neither  Tommy 
nor  Joe  understood,  gave  him  the  amount  in  cop- 
pers. His  friend  followed  suit,  and  the  boy,  having 
parted  with  his  reputation  at  a  fair  price,  went  be, 
low,  whistling. 

Fraser  came  on  board  soon  afterwards,  and  Mr. 
Green,  with  his  celebrated  drunken  scene  fresh  in 
his  mind,  waited  nervously  for  developments. 
None  ensuing,  he  confided  to  Joe  his  firm  convic- 
tion that  Miss  Tyrell  was  a  young  lady  worth  dy- 
ing for,  and  gloomily  wondered  whether  Fraser  was 
good  enough  for  her.  After  which,  both  men, 
somewhat  elated,  fell  to  comparing  head-pieces. 

Joe  was  in  a  state  of  nervous  tension  while  steam 
was  getting  up,  and,  glued  to  the  side  of  the 
steamer,  strained  his  eyes,  gazing  at  the  dimly-lit 
stairs.  As  they  steamed  rapidly  down  the  river 
his  spirits  rose,  and  he  said  vaguely  that  something 
inside  him  seemed  to  tell  him  that  his  trouble 
would  not  be  in  vain. 

"  There's  two  days  yet,"  said  Mr.  Green.  "  I 
wish  they  was  well  over." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  327 

Captain  Flower,  who  had  secured  a  bed  at  the 
Three  Sisters'  Hotel  in  Aldgate,  was  for  widely 
different  reasons  wishing  the  same  thing.  His  idea 
was  to  waylay  Fraser  immediately  after  the  mar- 
riage and  obtain  Poppy's  address,  his  natural  vanity 
leading  him  to  believe  that  Miss  Tipping  would  at 
once  insist  upon  a  change  of  bridegroom,  if  she 
heard  of  his  safety  before  the  ceremony  was  per- 
formed. In  these  circumstances,  he  had  to  control 
his  impatience  as  best  he  could,  and  with  a  view  to 
preventing  his  safety  becoming  known  too  soon, 
postponed  writing  to  his  uncle  until  the  day  before 
the  wedding. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

HE  posted  his  letter  in  the  morning,  and  after  a 
midday  meal  took  train  to  Seabridge,  and  here  the 
reception  of  which  he  had  dreamed  for  many  weary 
months,  awaited  him.  The  news  of  his  escape  had 
spread  round  the  town  like  wildfire,  and  he  had 
hardly  stepped  out  of  the  train  before  the  station- 
master  was  warmly  shaking  hands  with  him.  The 
porters  followed  suit,  the  only  man  who  displayed 
any  hesitation  being  the  porter  from  the  lamp-room, 
who  patted  him  on  the  back  several  times  before 
venturing.  The  centre  of  a  little,  enthusiastic  knot 
of  fellow-townsmen,  he  could  hardly  get  clear  to  re- 
ceive the  hearty  grip  of  Captain  Barber,  or  the 
chaste  salute  with  which  Mrs.  Barber  inaugurated 
her  auntship ;  but  he  got  free  at  last,  and,  taking  an 
arm  of  each,  set  off  blithely  down  the  road,  escorted 
by  neighbours. 

As  far  as  the  cottage  their  journey  was  a  verita* 
ble  triumphal  progress,  and  it  was  some  time  before 
the  adventuresome  manner  was  permitted  to  go  in- 
side ;  but  he  got  free  at  last,  and  Mrs.  Barber,  with 
a  hazy  idea  of  the  best  way  to  treat  a  shipwrecked 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  329 

fellow-creature,  however  remote  the  accident,  placed 
before  him  a  joint  of  cold  beef  and  a  quantity  of 
hot  coffee.  It  was  not  until  he  had  made  a  good 
meal  and  lit  his  pipe  that  Uncle  Barber,  first  quaff- 
ing a  couple  of  glasses  of  ale  to  nerve  himself  for 
harrowing  details,  requested  him  to  begin  at  the 
beginning  and  go  right  on. 

His  nephew  complied,  the  tale  which  he  had  told 
Poppy  serving  him  as  far  as  Riga ;  after  which  a 
slight  collision  off  the  Nore  at  night  between  the 
brig  which  was  bringing  him  home  and  the  Golden 
Cloud  enabled  him  to  climb  into  the  bows  of  that 
ill-fated  vessel  before  she  swung  clear  again.  There 
was  a  slight  difficulty  here,  Captain  Barber's  views 
of  British  seamen  making  no  allowance  for  such  a 
hasty  exchange  of  ships,  but  as  it  appeared  that 
Flower  was  at  the  time  still  suffering  from  the 
effects  of  the  fever  which  had  seized  him  at  Riga, 
he  waived  the  objection,  and  listened  in  silence  to 
the  end  of  the  story. 

"  Fancy  what  he  must  have  suffered,"  said  Mrs. 
Barber,  shivering ;  "  and  then  to  turn  up  safe  and 
sound  a  twelvemonth  afterwards.  He  ought  to 
make  a  book  of  it." 

"  It's  all  in  a  sailorman's  dooty,"  said  Captain 
Barber,  shaking  his  head.  "  It's  wot  *e  expects." 


330  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

I^is  wife  rose,  and  talking  the  while  proceeded 
to  clear  the  table.  The  old  man  closed  the  door 
after  her,  and  with  a  glance  at  his  nephew  gave  a 
jerk  of  the  head  towards  the  kitchen. 

"  Wonderful  woman,  your  aunt,"  he  said,  impres- 
sively ;  "  but  I  was  one  too  many  for  'er." 

Flower  stared. 

"  How?"  he  enquired,  briefly. 

"  Married  'er,"  said  the  old  man,  chuckling.  "  You 
wouldn't  believe  wot  a  lot  there  was  arter  her.  I 
got  'er  afore  she  knew  where  she  was  a'most.  If  I 
was  to  tell  you  all  that  there  was  arter 'er,  you'd 
hardly  believe  me." 

"  I  daresay,"  said  the  other. 

"  There's  good  news  and  bad  news,"  continued 
Captain  Barber,  shaking  his  head  and  coughing  a  bit 
with  his  pipe.  "  I've  got  a  bit  o*  bad  for  you." 

Flower  waited. 

"  'Lizabeth's  married,"  said  the  old  man,  slowly  ; 
"married  that  stupid  young  Gibson.  She'll  be 
sorry  enough  now,  I  know." 

His  nephew  looked  down.  "  I've  heard  about  it," 
he  said,  with  an  attempt  at  gloom  ;  "  old  George 
told  me." 

The  old  man,  respecting  his  grief,  smoked  on  for 
some  time  in  silence,  then  he  got  up  and  patted  him 
on  the  shoulder. 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  331 

"  I'm  on  the  look-out  for  you,"  he  said,  kindly ; 
"  there's  a  niece  o'  your  aunt's.  I  ain't  seen  her 
yet ;  but  your  aunt  praises  of  her,  so  she's  all  right. 
I'll  tell  your  aunt  to  ask  'er  over.  Your  aunt 
ses " 

"  How  many  aunts  have  I  got  ? "  demanded 
Flower,  with  sudden  irritation. 

The  old  man  raised  his  eyebrows  and  stared  at 
him  in  offended  amazement. 

"  You're  not  yourself,  Fred,"  he  said,  slowly ; 
"  your  misfortunes  'ave  shook  you  up.  You've  got 
one  aunt  and  one  uncle  what  brought  you  up  and 
did  the  best  for  you  ever  since  you  was  so  'igh." 

"  So  you  did,"  said  Flower,  heartily.  "  I  didn't 
mean  to  speak  like  that,  but  I'm  tired  and  worried." 

"  I  see  you  was,"  said  his  uncle,  amiably,  "  but 
your  aunt's  a  wonderful  woman.  She's  got  a  busi- 
ness 'ead,  and  we're  doing  well.  I'm  buying  another 
schooner,  and  you  can  'ave  her  or  have  the  Foam 
back,  which  you  like." 

Flower  thanked  him  warmly,  and,  Mrs.  Barber 
returning,  he  noticed  with  some  surprise  the  evident 
happiness  of  the  couple  for  whose  marriage  he  was 
primarily  responsible.  He  had  to  go  over  his  ad- 
ventures again  and  again,  Captain  Barber  causing 
much  inconvenience  and  delay  at  supper-time  by 


332  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

using  the  beer-jug  to  represent  the  Golden  Cloud 
and  a  dish  of  hot  sausages  the  unknown  craft  which 
sank  her.  Flower  was  uncertain  which  to  admire 
most :  the  tactful  way  in  which  Mrs.  Barber  rescued 
the  sausages  or  the  readiness  with  which  his  uncle 
pushed  a  plate  over  a  fresh  stain  on  the  tablecloth. 

Supper  finished,  he  sat  silently  thinking  of  Poppy, 
not  quite  free  from  the  fear  that  she  might  have 
followed  him  to  New  Zealand  by  another  boat. 
The  idea  made  him  nervous,  and  the  suspense 
became  unendurable.  He  took  up  his  cap  and 
strolled  out  into  the  stillness  of  the  evening.  Sea- 
bridge  seemed  strange  to  him  after  his  long  absence, 
and,  under  present  conditions,  melancholy.  There 
was  hardly  a  soul  to  be  seen,  but  a  murmur  of 
voices  came  through  the  open  windows  of  the  Thorn, 
and  a  clumsy  cart  jolted  and  creaked  its  way  up  the 
darkening  road. 

He  stood  for  some  time  looking  down  on  the 
quay,  and  the  shadowy  shapes  of  one  or  two  small 
craft  lying  in  the  river.  The  Foam  was  in  her  old 
berth,  and  a  patch  of  light  aft  showed  that  the 
cabin  was  occupied.  He  walked  down  to  her,  and 
stepping  noiselessly  aboard,  peered  through  the 
open  skylight  at  Ben,  as  he  sat  putting  a  fresh 
patch  in  a  pair  of  trousers.  It  struck  him  that  the 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  333 

old  man  might  know  something  of  the  events  which 
had  led  up  to  Fraser's  surprising  marriage,  and,  his 
curiosity  being  somewhat  keen  on  the  point,  he 
descended  to  glean  particulars. 

Ben's  favourite  subject  was  the  misdeeds  of  the 
crew,  and  the  steps  which  a  kind  but  firm  mate 
had  to  take  to  control  them,  and  he  left  it  unwill- 
ingly to  discuss  Fraser's  marriage,  of  which  faint 
rumours  had  reached  his  ears.  It  was  evident  that 
he  knew  nothing  of  the  particulars,  and  Flower 
with  some  carefulness  proceeded  to  put  leading 
questions. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  anything  more  of  those 
womett  who  used  to  come  down  to  the  ship  after  a 
man  named  Robinson  ?  "  he  enquired,  carelessly. 

"  They  come  down  one  night  soon  arter  you  fell 
overboard,"  replied  the  old  man.  "  Very  polite 
they  was,  and  they  asked  me  to  go  and  see  'em  any 
time  I  liked.  I  ain't  much  of  a  one  for  seeing  peo- 
ple, but  I  did  go  one  night  'bout  two  or  three 
months  ago,  end  o'  March,  I  think  it  was,  to  a  pub 
wot  they  'ave  at  Chelsea,  to  see  whether  they  'ad 
heard  anything  of  'im." 

"  Ah  !  "  interjected  the  listener. 

"  They  was  very  short  about  it,"  continued  Ben, 
sourly ;  "  the  old  party  got  that  excited  she  could 


334  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

'ardly  keep  still,  but  the  young  lady  she  said  good 
riddance  to  bad  rubbish,  she  ses.  She  hoped  as 
'ow  he'd  be  punished." 

Flower  started,  and  then  smiled  softly  to  himself. 

"  Perhaps  she's  found  somebody  else/'  he  said. 

Ben  grunted. 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder,  she  seemed  very  much  took 
up  with  a  young  feller  she  called  Arthur,"  he  said, 
slowly ;  "  but  that  was  the  last  I  see  of  'em ;  they 
never  even  offered  me  a  drink,  and  though  they'd 
ask  me  to  go  down  any  time  I  liked,  they  was 
barely  civil.  The  young  lady  didn't  seem  to  me  to 
want  Arthur  to  'ear  about  it." 

He  stitched  away  resentfully,  and  his  listener, 
after  a  fond  look  round  his  old  quarters,  bade  him 
good-night  and  went  ashore  again.  For  a  little 
while  he  walked  up  and  down  the  road,  pausing 
once  to  glance  at  the  bright  drawn  blind  in  the 
Gibsons'  window,  and  then  returned  home.  Cap- 
tain Barber  and  his  wife  were  at  cribbage,  and 
intent  upon  the  game. 

With  the  morning  sun  his  spirits  rose,  and  after 
a  hurried  breakfast  he  set  off  for  the  station  and 
booked  to  Bittlesea.  The  little  platform  was  bright 
with  roses,  and  the  air  full  of  the  sweetness  of  an 
early  morning  in  June.  He  watched  the  long  line 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  335 

stretching  away  until  it  was  lost  in  a  bend  of  the 
road,  and  thought  out  ways  and  means  of  obtain- 
ing a  private  interview  with  the  happy  bridegroom ; 
a  subject  which  occupied  him  long  after  the  train 
had  started,  as  he  was  benevolently  anxious  not  to 
mar  his  friend's  happiness  by  a  display  of  useless 
grief  and  temper  on  the  part  of  the  bride. 

The  wedding  party  left  the  house  shortly  before 
his  arrival  at  the  station,  after  a  morning  of  excite- 
ment and  suspense  which  had  tried  Messrs.  Smith 
and  Green  to  the  utmost,  both  being  debarred  by 
self-imposed  etiquette  from  those  alluring  liquids 
by  which  in  other  circumstances  they  would  have 
soothed  their  nerves.  They  strolled  restlessly 
about  with  Tommy,  for  whom  they  had  suddenly 
conceived  an  ardent  affection,  and  who,  to  do  him 
justice,  was  taking  fullest  advantage  of  the  fact. 

They  felt  a  little  safer  when  a  brougham  dashed 
up  to  the  house  and  carried  off  Fraser  and  his  sup- 
porter, and  safer  still  when  his  father  appeared  with 
Poppy  Tyrell  on  his  arm,  blushing  sweetly  and 
throwing  a  glance  in  their  direction,  which  was  like 
to  have  led  to  a  quarrel  until  Tommy  created  a 
diversion  by  stating  that  it  was  intended  for  him. 

By  the  time  Flower  arrived  the  road  was  clear, 
and  the  house  had  lapsed  into  its  accustomed  quiet. 


336  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

An  old  seafaring  man,  whose  interest  in  weddings 
had  ceased  three  days  after  his  own,  indicated  the 
house  with  the  stem  of  his  pipe.  It  was  an  old 
house  with  a  broad  step  and  a  wide-open  door,  and 
on  the  step  a  small  servant,  in  a  huge  cap  with  her 
hands  clasped  together,  stood  gazing  excitedly  up 
the  road. 

"  Cap'n  Fraser  live  here  ?  "  enquired  Flower,  after 
a  cautious  glance  at  the  windows. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  small  servant ;  "  he's  getting 
married  at  this  very  instant." 

"You'll  be  married  one  of  these  days  if  you're  a 
good  girl,"  said  Flower,  who  was  in  excellent 
humour. 

The  small  girl  forgot  her  cap  and  gave  her  head 
a  toss.  Then  she  regarded  him  thoughtfully,  and 
after  adjusting  the  cap,  smoothed  down  her  apron 
and  said,  "  she  was  in  no  hurry  ;  she  never  took  any 
notice  of  them." 

Flower  looked  round  and  pondered.  He  was 
anxious,  if  possible,  to  see  Fraser  and  catch  the 
first  train  back. 

"  Cap'n  Fraser  was  in  good  spirits,  I  suppose  ?  " 
he  said,  cautiously. 

"  Very  good  spirits,"  admitted  the  small  servant, 
"  but  nervous." 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  337 

"  And  Miss  Tipping  ?  "  suggested  Flower. 

"  Miss  who  ? "  enquired  the  small  girl,  with  a 
superior  smile.  "  Miss  Tyrell  you  mean,  don't 
you  ?  " 

Flower  stared  at  her  in  astonishment.  "No, 
Miss  Tipping,"  he  said,  sharply,  "  the  bride.  Is 
Miss  Tyrell  here  too  ?  " 

The  small  girl  was  astonished  in  her  turn.  "  Miss 
Tyrell  is  the  bride,"  she  said,  dwelling  fondly  on 
the  last  word.  "  Who's  Miss  Tipping  ?  " 

"  What's  the  bride's  Christian  name?  "  demanded 
Flower,  catching  her  fiercely  by  the  hand. 

He  was  certain  of  the  reply  before  the  now  thor- 
oughly frightened  small  girl  could  find  breath 
enough  to  utter  it,  and  at  the  word  "  Poppy,"  he 
turned  without  a  word  and  ran  up  the  road.  Then 
he  stopped,  and  coming  back  hastily,  called  out  to 
her  for  the  whereabouts  of  the  church. 

"  Straight  up  there  and  second  turning  on  the 
left,"  cried  the  small  girl,  her  fear  giving  place  to 
curiosity.  "  What's  the  matter  ?  " 

But  Flower  was  running  doggedly  up  the  road, 
thinking  in  a  confused  fashion  as  he  ran.  At  first 
he  thought  that  Joe  had  blundered  ;  then,  as  he  re- 
membered his  manner  and  his  apparent  haste  to  get 
rid  of  him,  amazement  and  anger  jostled  each  other 


338  A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

in  his  mind.  Out  of  breath,  his  pace  slackened 
to  a  walk,  and  then  broke  into  a  run  again  as  he 
turned  the  corner,  and  the  church  came  into  view. 

There  was  a  small  cluster  of  people  in  the  porch, 
which  was  at  once  reduced  by  two,  and  a  couple  of 
carriages  drawn  up  against  the  curb.  He  arrived 
breathless  and  peered  in.  A  few  spectators  were 
in  the  seats,  but  the  chancel  was  empty. 

"They're  gone  into  the  vestry/'  whispered  an 
aged  but  frivolous  woman,  who  was  grimly  waiting 
with  a  huge  bag  of  rice. 

Flower  turned  white.  No  efforts  of  his  could 
avail  now,  and  he  smiled  bitterly  as  he  thought  of 
his  hardships  of  the  past  year.  There  was  a  lump 
in  his  throat,  and  a  sense  of  unreality  about  the 
proceedings  which  was  almost  dream-like.  He 
looked  up  the  sunny  road  with  its  sleepy,  old-time 
houses,  and  then  at  the  group  standing  in  the 
porch,  wondering  dimly  that  a  deformed  girl  on 
crutches  should  be  smiling  as  gaily  as  though  the 
wedding  were  her  own,  and  that  yellow,  wrinkled 
old  women  should  wilfully  come  to  remind  them- 
selves of  their  long-dead  youth.  His  whole  world 
seemed  suddenly  desolate  and  unreal,  and  it  was 
only  borne  in  upon  him  slowly  that  there  was  no 
need  now  for  his  journey  to  London  in  search  of 


A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT.  339 

Poppy,  and  that  henceforth  her  movements  could 
possess  no  interest  for  him.  He  ranged  himself 
quietly  with  the  bystanders  and,  not  without  a  cer- 
tain dignity,  waited. 

It  seemed  a  long  time.  The  horses  champed  and 
rattled  their  harness.  The  bystanders  got  restless. 
Then  there  was  a  movement. 

He  looked  in  the  church  again  and  saw  them 
coming  down  the  aisle  :  Fraser,  smiling  and  erect, 
with  Poppy's  little  hand  upon  his  arm.  She  looked 
down  at  first,  smiling  shyly,  but  as  they  drew  near 
the  door  gave  her  husband  a  glance  such  as  Flower 
had  never  seen  before.  He  caught  his  breath  then, 
and  stood  up  erect  as  the  bridegroom  himself,  and 
as  they  reached  the  door  they  both  saw  him  at  the 
same  instant.  Poppy,  with  a  startled  cry  of  joy 
and  surprise,  half  drew  her  arm  from  her  husband's ; 
Fraser  gazed  at  him  as  on  one  risen  from  the  dead. 

For  a  space  they  regarded  each  other  without  a 
word,  then  Fraser,  with  his  wife  on  his  arm,  took  a 
step  towards  him.  Flower  still  regarding  them 
steadily,  drew  back  a  little,  and  moved  by  a  sudden 
impulse,  and  that  new  sense  of  dignity,  snatched  a 
handful  of  rice  from  the  old  woman's  bag  and  threw 
it  over  them. 

Then  he  turned  quickly,  and  with  rapid  strides 
made  his  way  back  to  the  station. 


"'     v      ;     • 


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SEP     6  1933 


HAY  17 1955  IT? 
UUL    21982 

KC.  Ctt    JUN     9  1912 


LD  21-50m-l,'33 


4G-168C* 

J  n. 


UNIVERSITY  QF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


